


Stranger Tides

by esperjester



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Slow Burn, Work in Progress (W.I.P.), and by brief i mean it's a sentence or two in chapter 3, it'll still get referenced down the line but the actual act written is not explicitly written, mermaid au, most all of the kirkwall crew will appear but they may not all be frequently recurring, tags subject to update/change, the non-con is brief and limited to danarius/fenris
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 44,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esperjester/pseuds/esperjester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is traditionally accepted by mer that the color of one’s tale was indicative of their fate.  Fenris should have known that he was doomed from the start.</p><p>Garrett Hawke knew the story of his parents' escape like the back of his hand.  A creature out of myth taking enough interest in his father to help aid their flight from Kirkwall to the shores of Ferelden.  He had always disregarded it as an attempt by his parents to romanticize the almost impossible feat of their elopement, albeit an entertaining one.</p><p>When he falls into the harbor years later, he realizes that he probably should have paid more attention.</p><p>**UPDATES ON SUNDAYS (Eastern Standard Time)**<br/>>>> ON HIATUS DUE TO WRITER'S BLOCK - I know how this will end and have it all plotted out, but I want to deliver quality as opposed to rushed garbage... \(>.>')/  Please bear with me!!  I really hope to update and see you all again soon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by some drawings of Mer!Fenris and Fisherman!Hawke on tumblr by burlymeninfluffysweaters. You can find the images on their tag for this AU and they're all really nice so please check them out! [http://burlymeninfluffysweaters.tumblr.com/tagged/mermaid%20au]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for clicking on this story!
> 
> This is my first go at writing fanfiction in almost a decade, but it's been a lot of fun so far (and nowhere near as horrendous as ten year old me's feeble attempts at fanfiction) and I hope that you will enjoy it. :)
> 
> This will have a bit of a slow burn at first, but once the pace picks up it'll pretty much stay that way.
> 
> I'll do my best to mark each chapter if I think a warning is necessary, like the Danarius/Fenris scenes, but to be totally honest I won't write anything horribly explicit. I'm new to Ao3 though and its layout and system as whole as a result so please have patience with me!! I hope that you enjoy my work!

Leto was cursed.

That’s what they others said, at least.

He, like many others his age, had been born on the reef set slightly off the coast of Minrathous, as tradition dictated.  The mer always traveled to that particular reef to give birth, for it was undoubtedly the best place to raise their newborn smolts into respectable merfolk.

Tevinter was a warm place.  The reef was no exception, but even more than that it was secluded, _safe._

So it was that his mother had swam with the rest of their clan to settle and had been blessed with two young ones, he and his sister Varania, though he would later scoff at the idea of it being a _blessing_.

Each mer’s tail was different.  They all came in various sizes, shapes, colors, and forms.

It was traditionally accepted that the color of one’s tale was indicative of their fate.  He asked his mother about it once, when he began to understand why the others seemed so hesitant to approach him, and she had just scoffed and told him not to pay it any mind. 

When the first of the smolts began to shed their scales and come into their colors the clan would rejoice and celebrate the occasion until the last of their children had shed all his or her scales.

The elders made a game out of reading tails, colors and shapes taken into account, telling the fry, for they were no longer smolts, their fortunes and predicting their fates in many other fun ways.  The mothers would gather up their fry’s old scales, the bland and bleak gray ones typical of smolt, and use seaweed to bind them together in the most intricate of fashions.  Various trinkets could be made of the scales, each mother having their own preference.

Leto’s mother had taken his and Varania’s in equal portions and woven a necklace, the length of it came to rest just above her bosom at her heart.  She had not allowed the horror of her son’s revealed color to affect her as the other mothers, once so friendly to him, had.  She had chosen the necklace so she would always have a piece of them two of them with her, close to her heart.

He was grateful for that, at least. 

Even if he, without meaning to, had condemned himself, _his family_ , to being pariahs within the clan his mother still loved him, and he clutched to that like a lifeline each time he was taunted or beaten by the elder fry for his misfortune.

Leto’s old gray scales had fallen away to reveal darker ones.  Pitch black, speckled ever so slightly by the occasional splash of navy colored scales which glimmered most pleasantly for him.  He had not realized what it had meant at first.  His mother had smiled at him when he finished shedding, giggling as she scooped him and his freshly molted sister (Her tail was beautiful; a mixture of oranges, reds, and pinks.) and spun the two of them around in celebration.  

Regardless of her joy, though, he was cursed.

The elders had said as much when his mother had showed up hand in hand with her two children, intent on letting them join in the festivities.  Black tails were indicative of cursed children. 

_He was cursed_.

The fry and mothers had scattered, scrambling to get away from him when he made himself known and he felt nothing but shame as those he played with the very week before were snatched up by their mothers and taken away from him.

Black scales were nothing but bad luck.  That’s what they had told his mother as they tried to sway her, convince her to swim him out to the depths of the ocean and leave him in the open zoned area of a drop off to fend for himself. 

_[You still have the other one, Azura.]_  They had reminded her even as she gripped him closer and tucked his head against her neck to shield him from their accusatory gazes. _[You know that it would be better for everyone in the long run.  He will never live a normal life, cursed as he is, and keeping him will only curse the rest of us.]_

His mother, however, was incredibly obstinate and refused to relinquish him, hissing and screeching her own curses at them as she clutched both her children to her chest and stormed off to their own carved out section of the reef.

_[It’s archaic.]_   She had finally said, after she had calmed herself, and he struggled to not show how strongly her words had affected him when he felt his heart threaten to burst in relief as she elaborated. _[The color of your tail matters about as much as the color of your hair.]_   She elaborated, smoothing down and stroking his inky locks (Which, he would later lament, mirrored the color of that _damned tail of his..._ ) as she pulled him into her arms and nuzzled him affectionately.  _[You are fine as you are, Leto.  More than fine, in fact.  Know that you are loved, and that_ that _is the most important thing.]_

His sister did not share their mother’s sentiment.

She had been supportive at first, pitying her brother whenever he tried to approach the other fry and they all dispersed, leaving him alone.  It was short lived however, when it began to interfere with her own life.

Varania resented him.  That much quickly became clear.

She could not, would not have a normal life so long as he was in it.

As she started to mature into a beautiful mermaid all she could feel was animosity towards her brother.  She should have been being courted by other young mer at this point as stunning and _(incredibly)_ available as she was.  She should have been having no trouble finding a mate for when she came of age, but instead she constantly faced scrutiny as the sister of the black tailed pariah who appeared to be condemned to living out his days with none for company but his kind mother and bitter sister.

*             *             *

Leto took to other pursuits in an effort to distract himself from the loneliness of being the black tailed fry, and often excused himself from the cavern to follow a warm current and swim about the shoreline collecting the occasional shell or odd trinket as he did so.  When he found himself confined to their tiny cavern carved into the reef he shared with his family he would ask his mother to tell him tales of the past, which she knew so very well.

Most of what he knew of his kind he learned from his mother.  She told him tales of the old Clan wars back when mer were more numerous and territory was scarce.  She mesmerized and terrified him with tales of Flemeth, the old Sea Witch, who could grant a mer anything and everything that they had ever wished to have, for a price.  When she had exhausted her repertoire of mer tales and history she began to tell those which were less spoken of:  Tales of star-crossed love between those of their kind and the odd two legged creatures which gallivanted on the land called humans.

Those he found especially fascinating, and he often found himself crinkling his nose and snorting in disbelief when he admitted it to himself.  He sounded like one of those pining young maids Varania tried her best to associate with, romanticizing such horrors. 

Honestly, what kind of maniac would relinquish their voice and tail then dance upon wobbly, achy feet in a desperate effort to win over the one she loved, only to throw everything away and turn to sea foam when his wandering eyes found another?  It was madness.

_Way to go Ariel_.

Still, he found the humans in the tales particularly fascinating and pondered the potential in meeting and befriending one.  If tales existed of his kind and their kind intermingling then surely it was possible, he rationalized. 

And so, as he swam along the coast he began to do so leisurely, watching for movement along the beach that may indicate humans being near.  However, even when did begin to notice the humans and started to pick up on the frequency of their visits he did not approach.  The thought alone was more than enough to keep him sated and he often concealed himself in various locations around the rocks of the coast, watching from afar but never fraternizing with them.

Still, his first encounter with humans was bound to happen sooner or later, and fate had apparently decreed that it be sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first chapter is pretty short but I felt like it needed to be cut off there.
> 
> I have at least a quarter of this story written already, maybe even upwards to half of it completed. I'll post at least three chapters throughout the day today, but after that I'm going to try and establish some sort of updating schedule for me to aim to adhere to (I'm thinking once or twice a week right now). I am a student though and my update schedule may get a bit wonky eventually, so I'm going to try and write as much as possible this weekend so I can keep a bit ahead of myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Leto had heard of magic before.

Of course he had, he may have lived separate from mankind but he most certainly did not live under a rock.  Mer had their own spins on tales of those fortunate enough to have been born with the gift, which, of course, were accompanied by tales of corrupted and evil sentient beings which forced others to do their bidding.

Leto knew what magic was.

He just had never seen it up until this point.

*             *             *

Dorian Pavus and Felix Alexius were amongst the few who frequented the cove Leto often found himself patrolling (albeit from afar). 

They seemed young.  Though by human standards, Leto supposed that didn’t necessarily mean much.  Humans were to mer as mayflies were to humans; short lived.

Still, the duo’s faces were sleek and fresh looking yet, unlike that old sea captain whose whiskers were thick and white as the clouds above (and incidentally the only other frequent visitor to the cove), so he felt it safe to assume they were the mer equivalent of fry, teetering between youth and maturity.

He found himself watching them often, venturing closer and closer with each visit.

They practiced spells on the banks, joked around, and played the rest of the time they were there.

It was enjoyable, he had decided early on, seeing two such as them getting along so well.  It was the closest he thought he’d ever get to experiencing such companionship himself and he reveled in their visits.  Occasionally they would dive in the water in search of plants which, if his understanding of magic was accurate, he assumed were to be used in various poultices and potions.

He began to gather up such specimens and swim to shore in the dead of night as his mother and sister slept, lugging himself forward on his forearms and crawling on his belly until he was almost entirely out of the water and wet sand.  A danger to be sure, but he knew that if he didn’t deposit the plants far enough inland that they would be swept away by the tides and his hard work would be for naught.

They noticed fairly quickly, chattering excitedly and glancing this way and that whenever they would arrive in the morning to practice spells as they searched for the person leaving them offerings.

He went for a time unnoticed, as he desired.  His chest swelled, proud, as they began to appear more frequently than before and stay longer.  In this way, Leto formed his first relationship, albeit a quasi one.  He contented himself with his imagined relationship with the youngsters and continued this ritual every day he could.

Until one day, it was no longer imagined.

He was on the shore again, secluded in the cover of night and exposed only ever so slightly by the moon and stars which had the blue in his tail twinkling ever so faintly under their glow, depositing his offering as per usual when a noise startled him. 

He dropped the plants immediately, cursing his foolishness as he tried to push himself back towards the sea and felt the painful scrapping of sand getting caught and irritating the space between the scales of his tale as they were forced to invert.

His scrambling was futile, however, and soon the two boys he had found himself spying on so often were in the clearing.  The smaller one at first just rolled his eyes and grumbled something back at the taller one before picking up the staff he had apparently discarded by mistake.  When his companion halted, eyes wide as he looked on ahead, he followed his gaze to the mer before them and froze, his mouth falling slightly agape.

Leto panicked.

All he wanted to do was get back in the water and forget that this ever happened—

“H-Hello!”

He froze, lifting his gaze to stare incredulously at them.

“Hello!”  The same voice as before, the smaller one’s, repeated, more confident than before.  This time he enunciated the word and smiled down at the creature before him.  Leto blinked, confused.

The other seemed to pick up on what the smaller boy was doing and smiled at Leto as well, greeting him in turn. “Hello!”

As much as his instinct was to turn, to flee, to fling himself back into the ocean if need be, Leto desperately wanted to stay, to take a risk and interact with them.

They continued to make that noise again and again, so Leto did his best to mimic them.

“Hel…lo?”

They beamed at him, and just like that Leto decided that the risk was fully and truly worth it.

*             *             *

It was through the combined efforts of Dorian and Felix that Leto began to speak his first fumbling bits of Common tongue and, after he had enough of a grasp on it to participate in small, simple conversations, to swear almost comically in Tevene.

He still brought them plants when they visited, but he no longer needed to sneak out at night to present them to the duo.  Instead, he gathered them up and gifted them at the beginning of each encounter and the trio spent the rest of the time divided between teaching Leto more words (in both Tevene and Common), conversing, and practicing magic, which Leto had learned he enjoyed watching even more now that he was up close.

*             *             *

As the years passed, life for Leto and his family improved significantly.

Leto continued to spend only a minimal amount of time with his clan (technically his mother and sister—but they were clan members so he didn’t think it too big a lie in his mind) which allotted for his sister and mother to be able to more freely interact with the members that avoided him.

While Varania was ecstatic, his mother was more concerned with his sudden lack of presence in their lives as the years passed.  Seeing the change in Leto’s demeanor for the better though, as he suddenly seemed happy and contented for the first time in years, she decided to allow her suspicions to go unspoken and felt relieved that he had not allowed his status to take such a simple thing as joy from him.

For his own part, Leto (and Varania as well) had finally come of age.

He no longer needed to constantly check in with his mother nor return to their cavern in the reef.  Instead, he found a small hollowed out space in one of the larger rocks around the cove where his human friends visited him.

It amazed him how much they had grown.  He himself had seemed to age steadily with them in youth, but as hair began to cover their faces and laugh lines became more prominent with each passing year he began to finally grasp the transience that was humankind.  He watched as before his eyes they aged more and more while he himself appeared to be frozen in time. 

They no longer visited him together each time as they had in the past, and more often now he met them individually.

*             *             *

“Hmmm…”

“Is something wrong, Felix?  You keep spacing out.”

“Nothing, just wondering that’s all.”

“About...?”

“Well, how do you communicate with other merpeople?”

[Like this.]

“Whoa, wait, how did you get your voice to chirp like that?!”

Leto chuckled as Felix attempted to mimic the sound and failed. “If you’d like, I can teach you sometime.”

*             *             *

“So...  This...  Man you speak of...”

Dorian’s face lit up.  “The Iron Bull?”

“I have never seen a Qunari before, what does he look like?”

“If it all works out, maybe I can show you him one day.”

“I think that you and Felix are already more than enough for me to deal with.” Leto quipped cheekily with a smirk.

“That’s so rude.  That was so rude!  I’m actually offended by that!”  Dorian grinned, impressed.  “Well done! You’ll be throwing shade left and right before we know it!”

Leto stared at him, confused.  “I’ll be throwing what left and right?”

*             *             *

 

Years continued to pass, rolling one into the other, and Leto fell into his own routine.

He’d meet with the men when they visited, talking and laughing with them and giving him whatever trinket (he no longer limited himself to plants because he knew them better now) he thought would amuse them, and even got to meet Bull eventually.  The Qunari was just as fascinated with his webbed fingers, tail, and talons as Leto was with his horns. 

While he more often visited with Dorian in his presence, there were times when Bull would even visit Leto by himself, spinning for the mer tales of a distant place called Par Vollen and the island of Seheron.  He told him about the Qun other such oddities that Leto could never fully grasp though he did understand them. 

He had a hard time accepting a culture that designated roles from birth, having had more than his share of strife due to being born the cursed black tailed mer. Even when he voiced his opinions, though, Bull never seemed to take offense to his views.  They traded tales often when they met and Bull’s vivid descriptions of the surrounding jungles and exotic regions of his homeland more than once had Leto cursing his inability to walk on dry land alongside of his friends.

Aside from his visits with the trio though the only other routine he had was checking in on his mother.  He would visit her every few days to assure her that he was doing well and lounged about the rocks further out in the cove when he had nothing else to do.  She was getting older and it was becoming more difficult for her to leave the reef with each passing year, so he thought it important that he spend as much time with her now that he could.

He had tried visiting Varania once.  _Once_.

Once was more than enough.

She had mated with an arrogant prig of a mer and had a smolt of her own now, but when he had gone to congratulate them and visit he had swiftly been evicted from their living space and it was made painfully clear to him that he was unwelcome. 

So, like the creature of habit he was, he continued to follow his usual routine for many years to come.

His human friends continued to age, eventually becoming wizened and going entirely gray, and even Bull’s bulging muscles began to soften and sag in the years passed.  Despite it all, they continued to visit.

“Me?  Leave you?  Out here all alone?  Oh, Leto, how you wound me!”  Dorian had quipped one day when the merman had asked him if it was really alright for him to be trekking out to the coast as often as he did with his knees and various other limbs as bad as they were. 

“It can’t be easy on you.  I’ve seen how you limp down here.”

“If I limp at all, just assume it’s Bull’s fault.  He’s very attentive and _very_ thorough, even at our age.”

Leto reddened, overwhelmed and suddenly quite bashful.  “That was far too much information.”  He could not even meet the mage’s gaze, embarrassed as he was.  His tail jittered, slightly displacing the water in his discomfort.

“ _Ohhhhh!!_  Wait a minute, I see now!  We’re all embarrassing you aren’t we?  I bet all your little mer friends are out there laughing their little tails off watching the three geezers struggling to make their way down the coast and visit you.”

Leto had chuckled at that, the flush on his cheeks dissipating at the very thought of Dorian’s claim.  “If I acquire any such friends, you will be the first to know.”

“Don’t tell the other two that you said that.  Jealous ones those two, you know?  Honestly though, if you do then I want to know first, and only partially for bragging rights.”

“If they mocked any of you then I couldn’t keep them as friends now, could I?”  He teased.  He was intent on closing this subject quickly rather than allow the discussion of absent mer friends to advance beyond this point. 

Dorian smirked.  “Fair enough, my friend.”

Leto knew that it would eventually all come to an end soon though.

Despite their claims to the contrary, Dorian, Bull, and Felix were all three growing old rather quickly.

It was Bull who went first in the end, an old wound acting up and claiming his life before any could be the wiser.  Dorian was crushed, even more so by the fact that despite leaving the Qun behind that Bull still insisted on having his death dealt with as Qunari do. He left only a sword behind to be remembered by, though Dorian did manage to convince him to be buried in a modest grave.

The mage came down to the beach that night, keeping his thoughts to himself for the most part.  Leto surfaced and settled at his side in the sand, speaking only when spoken to and allowing the once lively man his grief.  In the morning he parted with only an utterance of “vitae benefaria." One last respectable goodbye before he turned and left Leto for the last time.

When Felix advanced down the beach some weeks later with his gaze lowered to the ground and eyes glassy, Leto could not help the feeling of foreboding which overtook him.  The news was delivered quickly, goodbyes said even quicker. 

As Felix’s figure disappeared into the foliage lining the coast, Leto allowed himself at last to let out a sob for those who he had lost as he sat perched upon his usual spot on the rocks and struggled to swallow the lump in his throat as he was filled with despair.

He was certain that it would not be long before Felix himself passed as well, leaving him alone yet again.

And when a year rolled into another without any sign of the man, Leto knew that he had been right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a fair warning, I feel I should inform you that Fenris's life as Leto is essentially nothing but angst and grief from this point on. I swear it'll be over sooner than you think and I'll be "introducing" Fenris in the context of this story very soon, but you'll have to bear with me until then.
> 
> On another note though, I do not have a beta for this story so if you notice any typos (I just had to go and fix one in Chapter 1) then please kindly let me know. I'll try to amend any found as soon as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning for brief mention of non-con between Fenris (Leto) and Danarius in this chapter!!**
> 
> It isn't anything super graphic, but I know that it can be super mortifying all the same. It's only a line or two but still. I felt like I should point it out. Strange as it may be, no matter how mortifying it is, I tend to try and keep as much canon compliant things in my stories as possible when I write. Not necessarily because I like to or agree with it, but because if I feel like it fleshes out a character or relationship a bit more then it should probably be included.
> 
> In this case, I included it (however briefly) because I feel it grants more of a reason for Fenris's intense hatred for the man and drives a point home about exactly how deranged Danarius is. Let's face it, the way that Danarius looks at Fenris in game is well beyond creepy. I kind of still wanted that vibe to be present here (and in later chapters) as well.
> 
>  
> 
> _(I love Fenris so much though, please believe that. I swear that once this fic is written in its entirety and published I will probably wind up writing so much fluff for him because the broody elf deserves all the hugs and love in the world to be honest.)_

After Dorian and Felix, Leto found it hard to acclimate himself to his former life of solitude, so he began visiting his mother more often.  In doing so, though, he opened himself up to her for questioning and prodding about this sudden shift in his behavior and he found himself putting on a show for her more often than not.  He forced himself to spend about the same amount of time with her as he had when his friends were still alive, even if it meant subjecting himself to an imposed solitary confinement of sorts, and acted as he had when they lived when he was around her.

He didn’t think she truly bought the façade, but she never called him on it either. 

Most of the mer who had been born at the same time as him had either moved on or were intent on doing so in the near future.  Those with children, like Varania, or who had become too old to migrate as often as mer did in their youth, such as the elders and even his mother, would remain on the reef but Leto did not desire to stray far from where he was.

This was his home, as far as he was concerned.

This was where he was born, where he made his first (and thus far _only_ ) friends, where he learned to hunt for fish and scavenge the sands, and it made it very hard to want to leave even when he knew it was expected of him.

Male mer were very rare, in one birthing season it was considered uncommon to have so much as five born on the reef, and Leto (cursed or not) was one of the three born amongst those his age and the only one to have been born of his clan. 

Males were nomadic, meant to swim the sea almost aimlessly in search of females to mate with before moving on to find another one.  It was rare, if not entirely unheard of, for a mer couple to mate for life.  In fact, in the few instances he had heard of when one member of such pairings suggested as much, the love-struck partner was often abandoned and left to deal with their broken heart alone.  Varania’s own mate had been an anomaly, sticking around long enough for their smolt to become a fry, but even he eventually heard the ocean’s call and left them.

As it was, Leto was the last of the male mer in his generation left on the reef.  The other males were long gone.  Still, Leto did not feel compelled to leave.  For one thing, he knew that other mer would likely see his tail as a sign and not want to copulate in the first place.  Even if they could move past that and intended to bond with him though, something about it left a funny taste in his mouth.

Perhaps it was because he had become accustomed to the practices of humans (Dorian and Bull had taken several rolls in the sand during their time together; it was hard for him to ignore) and their tendency to mate for life if at all possible.  There was a certain...  Intimacy, involved that was absent within mer culture.

( _Hell_ , he couldn’t even get his own father’s name from his mother, they had never so much as exchanged greetings from what he could gather.  He’d found it was much more commonplace than he had hoped when he attempted to gather more information.)

Needless to say, Leto did not see himself going anywhere else anytime soon.

*             *             *

He wasn’t quite sure how long it had been since his last encounter with humans when he encountered his next one, but it had been long enough that he had really had to think when he tried to process the proper way to greet one.

His name was Jowan. 

He was a fidgety little thing.  His face was not as handsome as he remembered Dorian’s being, not as defined as Felix’s, nor as proud as Bull’s (though in Jowan’s defense maybe it was simply because he wasn’t Qunari—Leto hadn’t really met enough humans to know what was normal).

He was often sent down to collect various grasses and other plants from the beach, presumably for the same purposes as Dorian and Felix had if the staff on his back were any indication.

He seemed harmless enough, a bit weak if Leto were to be entirely honest.  He didn't exude waves of confidence or charisma the way that his former companions had, which in a way was a blessing.  If anything it made Leto feel much more at ease approaching him.

He started leaving gifts of sea plants on the coast for the mage to find.

As he settled into taking his gifts and seemed more at ease finding them (no longer jerking around looking for who may have left such things) he gradually revealed himself, surfacing one day when Jowan returned to collect the usual offering.

When Jowan recovered enough from his initial shock, he managed to properly process the scene before him and will himself to meekly wave in response to Leto’s own call of “avannas” in form of salutation.

*             *             *

“How fares Minrathous these days?”  Leto had asked a few days after their first encounter when Jowan returned.  The mage had gathered his materials quickly that morning, eagerly accepting Leto’s own contribution to the pile his was assembling in his basket before settling into a spot on the beach before the mer.

Jowan raised a brow.  “You’ve heard of Minrathous?”

“Of course.”

“Er...  Not to pry but, how?  Have you ever been there before?”

Leto let out a laugh and smirked at the mage, ever naïve.  “Of course!  I mean,”  He thrust his tail up above the water and allowed it to slam down, the noise and the concurrent spray of water startling Jowan ever so slightly.  “This has provided me with ample opportunity to visit the city.”

“Alright now, you don’t have to be rude.”  Jowan muttered.  “I was just wondering if you can’t, I don’t know,”  He waggled his fingers here and there in a crude imitation of incantation.  “Mermaid magic yourself into having legs?”

“I am _not_ a maid.”  He said decisively.

“Er...  Mer magic yourself into having legs?”

Leto couldn’t help the bitter tug of a smile gracing his features as he sighed.  “If only it were that I could...”

*             *             *

For several months Jowan and Leto continued on this way, the quirky mage and curious mer keeping each other company each day after the man gathered the materials that his master wished him to.

“If I’m fortunate enough,”  Jowan explained one day as his lazily groped at the sand, allowing the wet grains to slide through his fingers over and over again.  “Then one day I’ll be a part of the Magisterium.  I’ll be _Magister_ Jowan.”

Leto quirked his head in interest.  “I have heard of the Magisterium, it is made up of many powerful mages with influence and power for as far as the eye can see.  Or, that’s my understanding of it at least.”

Jowan regarded him a bit bemused.  “You know an awful lot about Tevinter and its politics...”  He noted curiously and Leto grinned knowingly at him.

“You are not the first man that I have graced with my presence.”  He quipped in good humor.  “Once there were others.  Two men of Minrathous and a Qunari of Par Vollen.  Good men who made for good company.”

“That sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.”  Jowan chuckled despite himself at the very notion of a Qunari and Tevinters in the same room, let alone as companions.  “They got along then?”

“Two in particular, very well, in fact.”  Leto informed him with a bit a mischief dancing about his mossy orbs as he raised his brow suggestively.  Jowan sputtered at the implication.  Leto laughed before continuing on.  “I know for a fact that two of them became Magisters, though I don’t know how long before your time that they came into such power.”

“You— _You_ were friends with Magisters?!”

“Dorian found the position tiring, but Felix seemed to take to it well enough.  I believe that he found it more trying because his lifestyle was seen as something of a scandal by most of his peers...  He boasted of it often, and loudly.”  He snorted at the memory of the man melodramatically imitating his peers as they were at meetings.  “It was entertaining, if anything, to hear about.”

“Wait, Dorian and Felix?  You don’t mean Dorian Pavus and Felix Alexius!?”

“The very same.  You know their names?”

“All of the mages in Tevinter know those names!  They’re infamous for challenging members of the Magisterium and trying to reform Tevinter.  Magister Pavus petitioned to free the slaves a few years into his position, but it never really stuck.  He could never get enough people behind him to make it last...”

“Dorian was a good man.” 

“A powerful mage too!  Danarius has been using his notes as a basis for his prospectus.  Hadriana too.”

“Who?”

“Oh, erm...”  Jowan suddenly seemed more than a little uncomfortable and Leto frowned.  “They're um...  Danarius and Hadriana are my fellows in an apprenticeship under Magister Everen.”

“Friends?”

“More like colleagues.  I don’t think that they like me very much...”

Leto hummed thoughtfully.  “You should bring them by some time.”

“What?”  Jowan stared at the mer, unbelieving.  "You'd be ok with that?  Me bringing a couple of strangers down here to meet you?  That doesn't worry you at all?"

“I’m sure that I’m a much better source than any tome you may have about either Dorian Pavus or Felix Alexius.  Surely they could appreciate that, at least.  Perhaps even better your relations with them?  We were strangers but a few months ago.  I trust your judgement, Jowan.  If you believe it to is safe to bring them here, that it would help you in any way, then I would welcome them here.  Gladly in fact, it has been far too long since I have seen any new faces...”

*             *             *

In the end, Jowan brought Danarius and Hadriana to the beach and introduced them to Leto a few short days later and Leto found, very quickly, that not all humans were like his first companions.

Jowan seemed much the same as always, but every time either apprentice was with them on the beach he seemed to become jumpier than he was when it was just him and Leto.  He sometimes came by with sweets for his ocean dwelling friend, various chocolates and candies gracing Leto’s palette for the first time since Dorian, the last to gift him such confectionary treats, had died.  His visits since introducing Leto to the other apprentices were becoming much less frequent though, Leto noted with regret.

The other two left him uneasy, no matter how eager he may have been to meet them at first.

He did not understand Hadriana, for one thing.  Somedays she appeared on the beach welcoming and kind but more recently she had shown that her mood was a fickle thing, directing her ire on Jowan when he was there.  When she was alone with Leto she would spend much of the time making biting comments directed at him which often left him wishing she would just leave.  Thankfully, she was not one to visit by herself often.

The other apprentice, Danarius, often left him even more ill at ease.

He had seen little of the man since he had been discovered, the offer of discussing his late friends had been accepted and thus far not acted upon.  Rather, when he did arrive he mostly just looked Leto over and muttered senseless things to himself before disappearing for an extended period of time before appearing again.  His presence made Hadriana more bearable, at least, as she had to mirror his borderline fond, borderline disturbing manner in which he regarded Leto.  (In the words of one Dorian Pavus, she obviously “had it bad” for him and didn’t want to give him a reason not to like her.)  After he left though, she would become particularly unbearable.

Still, he figured that company was company.  He would not turn down companionship after being on his own for as long as he had, no matter how his instincts screamed at him to do as much at times.

He trusted that nothing bad would come from it, so long as he stayed friendly and maintained a respectable distance from Hadriana and Danarius when they came to visit.

He was wrong.

*             *             *

It had happened fast.  Too fast.

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming when Danarius appeared on the cove by himself.  He never came alone, always taking Hadriana with him at the very least to visit him.

It had happened so fast.

One minute he was in the water, the next he was out of it.

He recognized the gesture as soon as Danarius made it, it was the motion for the crushing prison spell that Felix had used on occasion to shift the rocks on the beach around when they wanted makeshift chairs, no matter how uncomfortable they may have been.

He had never had it used on him before though.

With a flick of his wrist, Danarius sent him flying out of the water and towards the inland, head headed straight for a tree lining the coast. 

He remembered an impact, seeing red before feeling the red dripping from his forehead down his nose and into the sand he was prostrated in as he tried to process what had happened.  Before he could even begin to collect his thoughts, the sand around him encased him making struggling futile and fell into blackness.

*             *             *

Pain.

That’s all he could feel.

At least, he thought, he could feel _something_. 

That meant he was still alive.

He had came to in a shallow pool in an unknown cavern with Danarius leering down at him.

Leto glowered at him as best as he could, snarling at the man and lunging for him with the talons on his hands as he realized what had happened.  He felt a shock shoot throughout his body as Danarius laughed at his attempted attack, the tingling sensation of burning pain ripping through him more as the mage snapped his fingers without relent.

“That face you just made was much more than that of a mere fish.”  Danarius noted calmly, almost sounding amused.  “That was truly feral, like a wolf.”  A sadistic grin lit up his face and Leto blanched, horrified.  “Actually, that’s rather appropriate, don’t you think?”  He lowered his hand and the sensation overpowering Leto’s body halted all at once, allowing the mer to collapse in the pool and try to recompose himself.  As he lay there, desperately gasping for breath Danarius’s gaze morphed into something Leto could only think to describe as _hungry_.  “As your new master, I think it’s time to give you a new name for your new life.”  He knelt down, grabbing at the mop of black atop his head and forcing Leto to meet his gaze.  “I think that I’ll call you Fenris, my own, personal _little wolf_.”

*             *             *

In the dark, it was impossible to know how much time had passed.

That scared him more than anything.

No sense of time stripped him indirectly of his sense of self.

There was no way to count the days, no way to know how long he had been stranded in this, his own personal hell.

Danarius had not exaggerated when he had informed him that he was now his master, and he was cruel beyond all measure.

However long Leto was stuck there resulted in so much damage being inflicted on his psyche that he knew it would never go away, even if he did manage to escape, and with each day (unmarked though he knew that many must have come and gone at this point) he found his hope for as much dwindling.

He tried to distract himself from the horrors inflicted by escaping to happier times in his past.

Each time he was taken, violated over and over at the mage’s whim he thought about teaching Felix, Dorian, and later even Bull bits of mer speech.  He pretended that his panting and groaning and screams and pleas for mercy were all just pieces of the language he taught.  Pretended that grunts of pain and desperate cries were just another form of his native tongue, though he knew better himself.

When Hadriana appeared, some unknown passage of time later, and nearly skinned him alive, stripping layer upon layer of his scales from his tail until they grew back and she repeated the process (each time with progressively more malice) he tried to bite his lip and smile as he thought of his mother and how she had assured him time and time again that he was fine as he was. 

In darker times later on in his captivity, he laughed, surely sounding mad to any who might hear him, at the irony.  The thing he had hated the most growing up, the thing that had alienated him and his family from the rest of the clan, caused so much more pain when stripped from him than he ever felt when the black scales had laid in their proper places, untouched.

It was becoming harder and harder to reach into his mind and pull out memories of happier times with each passing moment.  Sometimes, he wondered if he imagined them, wondered if they were just dreams.  Glorious, marvelous, _beautiful_ dreams.

He sobbed one day (Was it day?  Night?  Did it even matter anymore?) as he carded his hands through his hair in a rare moment where he was unattended and found it was had not only turned white (or so he assumed given the pink color his blood had colored it) but that clumps of it were falling out, leaving several airy spaces on his head.

He probably didn’t even look like himself anymore.

They poked him, prodded him, mutilated him.

Eventually, Jowan was even let in on their fun, though the mage paled and fled the room with his hand over his mouth as Hadriana spurned him.  He heard the man’s retching in the adjourning area and could not help but feel the slightest bit of validation knowing that he had reacted in such a way, though whether the turning of his stomach stemmed from the cruelty inflicted upon him or the stench of infection and sight of systematic abuse he could not discern.

He cried harder when the mage returned and met his gaze, begging him for mercy.  Sobbed fully and truly as the gravity of the situation mixed bitterly with hope that Jowan would be able to do something for him.  Surely the mage could do something, _something_ to make this stop.  Jowan was his friend.  Jowan would help him.

The moment the mage’s eyes dulled and he shifted away from him, turned his back to him, and walked out of the chamber through the door was the moment when Leto felt his world shatter and fall apart entirely as he screamed.

Jowan did not come back for a long time after that and the cycle continued.

Then, one day, Danarius and Hadriana approached him looking particularly threatening.

Instead of progressing as they normally did into their systematic rituals of abuse, the healed him from head to toe.  It should have been a relief, but if made him sick to his stomach with dread.  Sure enough, as soon as his wounds were sealed and his scars faded into oblivion, they bound him and lifted him from the pool.

They placed him on a table they had set up prior, which was when Jowan walked in, face pale and head lowered almost shamefully.  As Hadriana began barking instructions at the newcomer, Danarius took to tracing lines up and down his body and told him to hold still.  He could only listen and pray that whatever they had planned would be over soon. 

Containers full of glowing blue material, both liquid and solid, soon occupied much the area surrounding them.  Jowan was placed in charge of them, handing the required materials over to his fellow mages as requested. 

After one last examination of the lines spread across his body, Danarius nodded to his fellows before looking down at the mer, cruelty glistening in each eye.  “This is going to hurt Fenris, but it will hurt far worse if you do not lay still.”

His screams reverberated throughout the entire cavern as they began to drive the material into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The worst of Fenris/Leto's torment is over now, if that makes you feel any better. I promise that things will start to get better for him soon and we will begin our steady path to him and Hawke meeting, so I hope you'll have patience with me!
> 
> _(I tried to proofread as much as possible but is currently 3:47am where I live right now and I should really try and be a responsible adult and go to sleep... So sorry if there are any typos!)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it was that esperjester decided to post another chapter at the most unholy hours of not quite morning not quite night _again..._
> 
> It's Sunday where I live right now. I'm going to aim to post at least a chapter a week on Sunday, but we'll see how this upcoming week goes first yeah? I think it's better to have a goal set though, more accountability (on my end) that way, you know?
> 
> That said, I'm really going to try to write as much as I can whenever I can this week to stay ahead. (New semester at my school this week too though, so I'm just going to hope and pray I still have the time I'd like to have to write tbh.) If I can get far enough ahead, you guys may get some extra updates this week (which is what I'm aiming for) so wish me luck!!

Jowan had been consumed by guilt ever since he saw what Danarius and Hadriana were doing to Leto.

It was made even worse by that look that Leto had given him when Hadriana and Danarius finally let him in on their little scheme, when Leto looked at with with such desperation.  It was worst when he saw the hope bleeding through the pain in the mer’s eyes, pleading with him to stop them.  He honestly believed that Jowan would, _could_ help him.  Leto had such blind faith in him, only for it all to be snuffed out as Jowan turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, Leto’s broken wails chasing him every step of the way.

The position the mer was now in was undeniably Jowan’s own fault.

Jowan knew, _knew_ that he should not have brought Danarius and Hadriana to meet him.  Despite the mer’s assurances, Jowan knew that any encounter between either of them and Leto would likely end badly.  When Leto pointed out the potential in bettering his relationship with them through him, through a shared secret more than obscure facts of men long dead, he couldn’t help himself.

It was no secret that Jowan was the weakest of the Everen’s three apprentices, Hadriana and Danarius far outranking him in all but title.  In fact, Jowan’s position was hardly stable.  The only thing helping him hold on to his rank was a promise between Everen and his younger sister, Jowan’s mother.  Relations, even familial ones, were constantly strained in Tevinter, however, and with such promising pupils now under his uncle’s wing Jowan knew that his precarious position was all but guaranteed to be stripped of him.

He was weak.  Too weak.  No amount of blood magic or studying could make up for what the other two had:  Raw, natural talent.  His only chance was to win their good graces so that when they time came he would have allies to vouch for his potential, even if it seemed non-existent.  So, he had heeded Leto’s words against everything he knew and taken them to the beach. 

He should have told Leto to swim as fast and far away as possible when he noticed the glint in Danarius’s eye at their first meeting, when the mage continued to put off discussing the subject of Dorian Pavus, when he noticed the almost hungry gaze which trailed the mer in wake of the man’s visits.  As soon as he had noticed he should have said something, anything to warn his friend.  But he didn’t, just ignored it like a child and let the issue snowball until it was well beyond his control. 

He had failed Leto as a friend when he did not warn him of the dangers he faced associating with his fellows, but he had failed Leto as a decent human being when he abandoned him to his fate under the scrutiny of the merciless mages.

He had little choice in the matter however, the two of them were each valued far more than he by their master and he knew that even if the man would buy into the existence a merfolk, who were nothing more than creatures of myth until he had met Leto, the sadists would automatically veto anything he had to say.

If he were totally honest with himself too, he would have to say that Everen may do more harm than good to all parties involved if he found out his apprentices had kept such a big secret from him.  Then not only would he likely be dead but Leto would most certainly never be free again.

So he bided his time, looking for some way to help him escape.

Within a week of first visiting the horrifying scene in the cavern, he found it.

Danarius intended to place lyrium markings on the mer.

Attempts to do as much to others had been made by their master, but all the subjects had perished or gone mad before the project could be completed.

Danarius theorized that perhaps a mythical creature, such as a mer, would be able to withstand the process more effectively.  Already he had made, rather gruesome Jowan might add, note of how the merman’s skin seemed to require more force, more power to penetrate and to damage.  He seemed to have a natural affinity for resisting magic, making him a prime candidate for lyrium markings.

What Danarius thought Leto would be able to do with such markings was beyond Jowan.  He knew his uncle had predicted they would provide an almost ghostly quality to those marked with them due to the limited results collected in the past, but how that would benefit Danarius Jowan could not rationalize.

It was not as though they could give the mer a blade and expect him to fight on their behalf, he was a sea creature after all (though the idea of infiltrating and drowning legions of Qunari fleets near Seheron did seem something Jowan thought the elder apprentice would find an enjoyable thought) and beyond that Jowan knew that Leto would never willingly listen to anything his tormentors told him to do _now_. 

To Jowan, he thought it seemed much more likely that Danarius was looking for a way to outdo their master and advance ranks faster.  Doing as much may cost him his favorite plaything, but apparently the idea was too tempting not to attempt.

The ceremony required multiple people to be done correctly with at least one person overseeing the distribution of lyrium while it was underway.  As he was the least gifted of the trio, he was safe to assume that particular task would fall to him.  It was the simplest and least tiresome position of the entire ritual.  The other two would without a doubt set to work on the loathsome duty of inscribing the mer’s skin.  It was the most crucial component and by far the most draining.  It was critical that it be done as immaculately as possible. 

Jowan knew that this would be the only time he would likely have to liberate the mer.  He also knew that doing as much was as good a death sentence as any and so, as Danarius and Hadriana began etching the mer’s skin, he sent a silent prayer to the maker that he would be able to free Leto and flee before anybody noticed.

*             *             *

The entire time he questioned himself, questioned his existence.

Who was he?  He that tried his hardest not to writhe in pain as he was carved into.

Who was he really?

What had he done to deserve this?

He almost cackled at one point, thinking back to his elders’ commentary on his black tail, which was currently having line after line of lyrium embedded into it. 

 _The black tailed_. 

The cursed.

They had been right.

_They had been right._

Would it have been kinder then, for his mother to have left him to die in the clearing as they had wanted?

What kind of idiot was he, thinking he could escape fate?  Thinking he could make it his own.

_What kind of idiot was he to place such trust, such blind faith in humans?_

As they continued to work on him, his mind raced a mile a minute.  Each thought either bringing more pain or alleviating some that the markings inflicted. 

And as time continued to roll on, as it always must, he could not help but grimace as he finally allowed himself to mourn.  Mourn for the loss of himself, his freedom, his ideals.

Mourn for Leto who had died long ago, leaving only Fenris behind in his shell of a skin.

*             *             *

He was swaying...

He was swaying?

With a groan the mer sat up, crying out in pain as he realized his mistake and irritated the already angry and inflamed marks covering his body.

“Oh good!  You’re up!”

He knew that voice. 

 _That voice was **dead**_.

Fenris lunged forward, the promise of vengeance and temptation of killing one of his tormentors drowning out his aching body’s protests.  He heard a shrill squeak then felt himself fall, out of what he would later realize was a boat, and let out a howl of pain as the salt in the water he impacted made every freshly marked part of his body scream bloody murder.

“I’m so sorry!  I was going to warn you not to do that!  Oh, Maker, that has to have hurt...”

If he did not feel like his body about to rip apart at any moment he would have tried to kill him again.

As it was though, he lay in the water, allowing its familiar push and pull to lap at his cheeks as he stared up at the night sky and winced as he experienced the first natural lights he had witnessed in far too long.

“I didn’t know that they...  Look, I know you probably don’t give a damn at this point, but I am so sorry this happened.”

 _‘Vishante kaffas!’_   Fenris snarled internally, too weak to spew the words in reality.

“I’m—I’m so sorry.  I really am.  This is all my fault...”  Jowan drew his sleeve roughly over one eye, presumably to wipe at a tear but Fenris could not have cared less if he tried.  He had been betrayed by this man.  _Leto_ had been betrayed by this man, he amended, a man he had trusted and called friend.

He would not make the same mistake.  He would never forgive him and most certainly did not want his _pity_ of all things.  His eyes narrowed at the mage daring him to apologize again, _to see what happened if he dare apologize again_.

The person he was now knew no mercy, and if the horrified expression on the man’s face were to be believed then he knew that this much must have been made clear by his expression.  The mage did not attempt to apologize again, instead swallowing and taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I—we need to get out of here.”  Jowan, _the traitor_ Fenris’s mind supplied helpfully, stammered nervously.  “They’ll kill me when they realize you’re gone.  I recommend you take my advice and get as far away as possible, maybe head south where they would not dare follow.  Mages aren’t given the same liberties there as here, they’re carefully guarded day and night; they get branded apostates if they run.”  He explained, though Fenris could not find it in him much to care.  “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to take advice from, but you have to listen to me.  Those markings, you’re the first one to survive the process.  I don’t know entirely what they do, but they’re extremely valuable to the magisters lined with lyrium as they are.”

Fenris shifted to glare at Jowan as he took up oars in each arm, paddling languidly as he continued.  _‘Oh but if I could move right now...!’_

Jowan regarded him sadly, likely drawing a rather accurate conclusion of what was running through the mer’s head by looking at his face alone.  “I’ll skip straight to the point then.  Danarius does not do anything halfway.  He altered the template to incorporate his own personal method of tracking you.”  The mage tapped his forehead dead in the center.  “All those little triads of circles lining your body were insurance for an event in which you were stolen or managed to escape...  He can use them to find you.”  Jowan fiddled with his lip, worrying it between his teeth.  “You’re free now.  But you have to keep moving.  I don’t think he can follow you now if you get out of here, he doesn’t have the resources to.  But if he manages to become a magister… Just, I’d recommend leaving as soon as possible.”

“...”

“I have to go now.”  He paused, halting his rowing momentarily and frowned, thoughtful before he looked at Fenris again.  “I know you don’t want to hear it, I mean you probably don’t even think I mean it but...  I really am sorry, Leto,”  Fenris cringed at the name but if Jowan noticed he paid no heed to it.  “I hope that you never have to experience anything like this ever again.  I just...  I’m sorry.”  With that said, Jowan took to rowing again, this time making much brisker strokes. 

Within minutes he had reached the shore and Fenris had not moved. 

Another hour and he was gone and Fenris still had not moved.

He lay there, trying to discern reality from fantasy and truth from all the lies he’d been told.

 _“You’re free now.”_ Jowan had said, as if that helped him at all, and despite the pain he was in Fenris couldn’t help laugh at that a bit, bitterness seeping deep into his bones, hatred spreading throughout him like the poison he knew it was.

_He would never be free as long as he wore their filthy, damn markings._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it was that Leto became Fenris.
> 
> We're getting closer to the meat of the story now (wow that sounded strange, I swear I've heard "meat" used that way before but wow it's weird typed out whoops). It won't be long now before Fenris encounters Hawke and the true tale begins.
> 
> Prepare yourself friends, for we only have another chapter or two to go before we all get to take a wild ride down FenHawke Mermaid AU Lane. Be ready for lots of fluff and angst and all the wonderful things that seem to go hand in hand with those two falling in love, but just know that we still have a chapter or two to go. But hey, compared to three years in game, a couple of chapters will feel like nothing, eh?
> 
> Thanks for reading up to this point, I hope you'll stick with him from here on out as well. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... It's still Sunday, and _technically_ posting this still leaves me a chapter ahead of myself so...
> 
> Yeah, I'm double posting for no good reason. I just have a really hard time hoarding chapters when I know that they're just sitting there. Especially shorter chapters.

He never returned to his clan.

They had hated him before, he could only imagine what they would say now.

Perhaps it was selfish, he thought, when he remembered his mother.  Selfish, he chided himself as he thought about how grief stricken she must be. 

But Leto was dead.  She must have reached that conclusion long ago.

Or, he considered, perhaps she had lied to herself.  Perhaps she had smiled, thought that he had finally left her, her wayward son.  Finally left to swim the deep, following current after current, to find his way in the world.

Leto was dead, only Fenris remained.

He would not put her through losing him again.

*             *             *

Though he was loathe to admit it, Jowan had made several good points.

One, he had to leave.  Sooner rather than later.

Two, Danarius could and would most likely eventually track him down if his skin was suddenly as valuable as Jowan had told him it was.

Three, moving further south was undoubtedly the best course of action for one such as him.

*             *             *

He never stayed in one place for too long. 

He had learned from Leto’s mistakes.

Never stay in one place.  Never trust a human, _especially_ the mages.

Home did not exist.  Home was a fantasy, a child’s dream.  Transient, fleeting, _unreal_.

_“Home,”_ whispered another part of him, long since forgotten.  _“Home is a mother’s embrace, laughter and fun times shared with friends.  Home is where you are loved and you know it.”_  

He would not listen to lies, even if they were of his own making. 

He shoved it down inside him again.

That part of him was dead.

Its lies could not hurt him anymore.

Fenris would never have a home, because home was just an ideal meant to cater to weaker beings.

Beings like Leto.

Leto.  Bright-eyed, cheeky, happy _Leto_.

Leto who had trusted so blindly, so foolishly.

Leto who so blatantly wore his heart on his sleeve.

Leto who smiled at those he should have known were villains and invited to be his friends.

Leto who was kind to those who were cruel to him, who shunned him, who wished him _dead_.

And now, Fenris thought resolutely, Leto was dead.

If he cried himself to sleep occasionally with that thought constricting his heart, weighing it down like lead and aching like someone had run a thousand or so knives through it, then it was not without cause.

*             *             *

He learned to use the power of the markings gradually.

The potential usages would make themselves known in a flash.  Literally.

He had discovered phasing when he found himself facing a shark, alone and unarmed, and stuck his hand through its skull and crushed its brain.

He had discovered lyrium pulses one night when he was angrier than usual, hungry and jerking about as he hunted for food and let out a wave that killed five fish near him.

He learned how to make the glow on command, how to bend them to his will.

He learned how to use them as any other part of his body, effectively and fluidly.

*             *             *

It was many years after his escape from Danarius that he encountered his next human.

Not that he hadn’t seen them in the period between his escape and the encounter, but had not really paid them much mind beyond keeping them at a distance up until this point.

Fenris had made camp near Kirkwall, hiding amongst the many rocks scattered about the mass of water which separated the massive structure known to locals as the “Gallows” from the crowded shores of the docks.  Despite how densely populated the city was, it was not terribly difficult to avoid being seen.  So long as he avoided the prying eyes of sailors and dock workers he was more than amply shielded by the tall walls lining the city’s borders and the intimidating enclosure surrounding the Gallows.

Nonetheless, there were exposed portions. 

Be it the incomplete or crumbling remnants of once mighty structures or the required segments set aside for docking points to be established there were flaws in the city’s boundaries, and it was at one of these points that he would make his first contact with mankind since his flight from Minrathous’s sandy shores.

A storm was brewing on the horizon. 

He watched the gray clouds roll overhead, coloring the already dreary cityscape an even more dreadful shade and sighed before turning round and setting about finding a proper shelter amongst the rocks.  As he circled the Gallows and struggled to find a decent hiding place he briefly entertained the idea of returning to the Wounded Coast, where he could thoroughly comb the shoreline for hidden caverns and crevices, when a blur of movement drew his attention.

A boy, not quite a child and yet not quite a man, was gallivanting about the outskirts of one of the crumbled walls of the Gallows.

He ran this way and that, thrusting his hands this way and that way, shifting his staff from hand to hand and his center of gravity calculatingly with each step before running through them over and over again. 

Fenris watched him a moment, as transfixed by the fluidity with which he moved as he was by the man’s animated facial expressions and colorful exclamations; apparently deeming it necessary to give voice to the invisible opponents his imagination had conjured up for him.

At one point he shifted a little farther to the left than he seemed to have intended, hitting his foot sharply against an isolated rock and letting out a cry of pain.  He relinquished his staff in favor of gathering up the aforementioned foot with both of his hands and hopped about in an attempt to alleviate the ache.

He rolled his eyes. _‘How foolish.’_   He thought contemptuously as he watched the manchild bumble about, impacting the wall and then the same offending rock that had injured him mere moments before.

‘Incredibly _foolish.’_   He deemed decisively, rolling his eyes.

The melodramatic movements of the man sent him flying thusly straight off the edge of the Gallows’s exposed surface and into the water, the depths of which were quickly shown to be both impressive immediate.

Water sprayed everywhere as he went under, disappearing from sight.

_‘Well, that’s that.’_ Fenris scoffed.

Tangled limbs struggled above and under the surface, a head surfacing long enough to take a deep breath just as often as it sank and sucked in mouthfuls of sea water.

_“You can’t just let him die!”_   Screamed the other part of himself as he pondered the consequences of swimming away, the part that he continually tried to ignore and deny.  _“You can’t!”_

_‘Hell if I can’t.’_ He thought to himself as watched the water seem to implode upon the man throughout his struggles.  _‘The idiot should have seen it coming, and as he did not it would seem that he truly cannot be helped.’_

_“He hasn’t even done anything to you!  You can’t just let him_ die! _”_

_‘This is clearly natural selection at its finest.  Who am I to intervene?’_

Still, the other part of him, the part that had belonged to Leto, would not.  Shut.  Up.

Growling and tired of all of the internal strife, Fenris pushed off of the rock he had perched himself upon, setting off for the boy resolutely.

One last favor for the dead, he rationalized.  Surely, he owed Leto that much.

*             *             *

When he managed to reach the boy, it took him longer to fish him out than he had initially anticipated...

For one thing, the boy’s desperate flailing made it all but impossible to get a decent hold on any part of his body for longer than a second or two at most.

For another thing, upon making contact he began to convulse more, fighting against the feeling of the mer’s hands upon him that attempted to coax him towards the surface.

Fenris would likely have swam away had the boy not eventually exhausted himself, finally laying pliant enough in the water for the mer to scoop him up and set off toward the opening from whence he had came.

The boy had _only_ exhausted himself though.  Fenris noted with more than a bit of unease that, between coughing bouts where a concerning amount of water was freed from his lungs, the boy now laid willingly and calmly in his grasp, watching him with curious eyes.

He deposited him on the base of the area he had fallen from, rolling him onto his side to face away from him as the boy upchucked further evidence of his battle with the water to his back.

By the time he had stopped heaving Fenris was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A box of digital cookies (your flavor of choice) to those who guess the identity of the boy in this chapter! (It's probably painfully obvious though. _Like, super painfully obvious._ ._.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating in the dead of night again because I can!! :D
> 
> I haven't really gotten to proofread all of this yet, so as usual let me know if there are any typos please! I hope you enjoy the update!

It was not more than a month after Fenris had rescued him that the boy started leaving things in the spot he had been deposited on following his rescue, he noticed.  Various treats, toys, and knick-knacks littered upon the ledge until Fenris finally mustered up the courage to go claim them.

It took Fenris a long time to actually collect any of these apparent offerings, but after experimenting with a few of them he reluctantly conceded that some of them were rather enjoyable, much to his bemusement.

He never ate the food, but the games were entertaining.

There was a strange plank with a string and a ball which he used to amuse himself with between hunting and gathering during the day.  He had almost mastered hitting it back and forth without missing a stroke when the boy himself began to linger at the opening, waiting some days for most all of the daylight hours, seemingly in search of him.  Even as Fenris continued to hide from him, the gifts continued to appear.

This went on for several months, and Fenris was well beyond when he normally would move from one area to another in an effort to maintain his distance from Danarius.  He felt intrigued despite himself. 

One day, when he had gone to the opening to gather up what he had been left, the boy had had appeared at roughly the same time.  Rather than approach him, though, he waited patiently for Fenris to slink back into the water with his things before depositing more onto the ledge before the open water, despite the wanton gleam of curiosity so prevalent in the child’s eyes.

Eventually, Fenris did move on as he had always intended, but he found himself waiting until he knew the boy would be there to do so, drawing attention to himself with the slap of his tail on the water as he headed out to sea.

The boy waved at him, wished him well, and told him he hoped he’d hurry back.

*             *             *

It was not all that long before Fenris returned, making the trek back to Kirkwall in less than a year.

The day he returned the boy had already been perched in what the mer now thought of as his natural spot.  He was reading a tome of some sort with mild interest which quickly gave way to pure mirth as he stood up to acknowledge Fenris’s return, smiling at him and waving excitedly at the creature floating not more than four feet away from the edge of the foundation and greeted him verbally for the first time. 

This time, Fenris did not shy away.

His name, the mer came to find out, was Malcolm Hawke.

Fenris was still ever careful to never put himself within reach of the young man, approaching with caution and maintaining a safe distance whenever they met.  He would float near the edge as Malcolm sat facing him and talked.  Fenris never spoke a word in return but that did not seem to matter to Malcolm, apparently content enough as he was to ramble on and on about the inanities of his life.

Malcolm was a mage.  That had set Fenris more than a bit on edge initially, but the man did not remind him of the cruel apprentices he had come to know in Tevinter.  No, if anything he reminded him more of Dorian Pavus than anyone else and that made it hard to resent him, let alone fear him.  Even if Leto’s time spent with the man had been lifetimes ago it set Fenris at more ease than he felt comfortable admitting.  His quick wit and quips drew Fenris closer to him, like a moth to a flame.

Soon enough their meetings were frequent, routine even.

Fenris would spend much of the day alone, but would always surface around noon to meet Malcolm as he slid through the crevice (which, he had recently been informed, led down several dank corridors until it met the far side of the Circle’s storage room) to perch on the ledge and dip his feet in the water as he held his usual one-sided conversations with the mer.

Malcolm did not ask him much of anything.  Not about the markings, not about why Fenris would not come closer to him, and not about why he would never speak to him.  He did not ask why Fenris’s fingers were webbed and tipped with talons or what he was or where he had come from.  He didn’t even ask Fenris’s name.

The only thing that Malcolm had ever asked, and incidentally the only thing that Fenris had ever responded to any sort of way, was early in their relationship.

_“Can you understand me?”_

He had nodded.

*             *             *

Over the years that followed, Fenris did not stray far from the mass of water surrounding the Gallows. 

Occasionally he would go off to the Wounded Coast, linger about for a time and explore its depths, collecting bits and bobbles as he went along to store in a chest Malcolm had presented to him and set aside for him at their usual spot, but he would never be gone for long.

Sometimes he wondered what he was thinking, subjecting himself to the man’s company so willingly but it was so easy to do so.  Familiar even.  He was not reminded of Danarius, Hadriana, or Jowan at all in the man’s presence except in the fact that he was a mage.  Their time together seemed more reminiscent of Leto’s initial interactions with his first human companions back when he did not know enough words to speak well with them but understood all the same.

He wondered at times if his view of humanity was shifting after being alone for so long and if he would eventually become soft like Leto had been, but then he would shift too close to the domain of the dock workers or catch glances of various stragglers wandering about the Coast and feel the same amount of loathing and disgust he had towards man that he had when Jowan left him floating in the waters off Minrathous’s shores, though it was less sharp than it had been before.

No, it appeared that what little comfort he could garner in his relations with humans was now limited staunchly to Malcolm Hawke.  A fact he found himself both uneasy admitting and relieved that it was with someone like him that he found such comfort.

These days, the Circle, apparently an oppressive order concerned with keeping mages in line (Fenris was still trying to wrap his head around that one), was causing Malcolm considerable distress.  No longer was he the adolescent Fenris had fished from the water and saved, but a young man whose face was quickly being weathered by the stress he was enduring in his day to day life.

“It’s not that bad yet...”  Malcolm tried to explain one day, uncharacteristically serious these days.  He hugged his knees to his chest and stared blankly at the ground as he spoke, refusing to meet Fenris’s gaze.  “It’s just that...  I don’t know.  The Templars are becoming much more vigilant.  That’s not supposed be a bad thing, but it is?  I don’t know.  I just don’t know.  I can’t explain it, but I sense a storm dwelling just beyond the horizon, and I know that that sounds crazy but... I feel like if I don’t figure something out soon then this will be what my life sums up to:  Oppressed, confused, and alone.  Well, not alone.”  He tagged quickly, looking up to smile at the mer before him.  “I mean, I still have you right?”

Fenris reddened, slightly flustered, before nodded his avowal all the same.

*             *             *

Not more than a year had passed when Malcolm emerged from his usual entryway in the wall, practically bursting at the seams in delight.  He plopped down before Fenris, prostrating himself on the ground with mirth written clear across his face and kicked his legs contentedly back and forth behind him as he proceeded to explain why to the creature in front of him, though the mer already had his suspicions.

He had seen that look before, written clear as day across a certain Tevinter’s face as he droned on about a certain Qunari so many years ago, and he knew exactly what it meant.

Malcolm Hawke was in love.

Her name was Leandra Amell and she was well out of his league.

She came from a noble family which could trace its roots back to the earliest founding families in the Free Marches. Though the magic running through their veins had been a stain on most of the family’s history, it was a well-respected and honored house.  She was engaged to the future Comte De Launcet, a political move on his parents’ end if Malcolm had ever seen one, but even so had snuck away to talk with him, _him_ of all people following the mages’ performance in the Viscount’s Keep.

Malcolm could not remember ever being so lucky in his life.

Each time he came, Malcolm returned with a few more stories about the beautiful Leandra Amell than the time before and each time he returned just a little bit more in love than he had been before, if that was even possible.

Even Fenris could not help but smile as Malcolm painstakingly recounted every detail of their meetings to the mer.  His reverence for her was undeniable, and more importantly, it seemed that she returned his affections just as enthusiastically.

They had taken to meeting whenever they could, most often in the dead of night and occasionally during the day if he could slip away long enough (he was always sure to apologize to Fenris when this cut into their meetings, but Fenris could not fault him for desiring to spend time with her).  Gamlen, Leandra’s younger brother, and his own love, Mara, often contributed to their trysts and helped the two rendezvous whenever they could.

They seemed happy with together.  Which was why when Malcolm stalked over to the water’s edge, brow knitted together, face gaunt, and posture stiff, that Fenris was so confused.

“She’s pregnant.”  Malcolm finally settled on after long moments of silence where the two just stared at each other, one party expectant and the other hesitant.  He ran his hair through the back of his head and let out a huff, awed and despondent all at once.  “Maker, she’s _pregnant_.  She’ll...  I’ll be a...!”  He choked on his words and Fenris couldn’t quite decide whether the man wanted to laugh or cry.  “A baby!  Can you believe that?  Andraste’s great... A baby!”

 _‘So you have said, repeatedly_. _’_   Fenris couldn’t help but think pointedly, but said nothing in response.

“Do you know what this means?”  Malcolm asked, though who its intended audience was meant to be was unclear.  “It means Leandra and I...  Together we made this...  This tiny, little life...  This tiny little thing is going to come into the world and it’ll be me and her, as one.  A _perfect_ little person made up of both of us.”  No response.  “... I’m going to be a father.”  Malcolm said, firmly, poignantly.  Then he smiled, bittersweet.  “My child may grow up and never know me.  No, they won’t ever know me if I can’t get Leandra and I away from here.  There is no way that the Amells will stand for this, and if they know that it might be a mage...”  He bit his lip.  “No, that won’t happen.  I have to get out of here.”

Fenris cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, unsure.

“I don’t know what will happen and I don’t know how it’ll work, but I want to try.  I have to.  I want to make a life with her, and I can’t do that here.”  The staunch determination in his amber eyes softened ever so slightly as he regarded Fenris.  “I’m sorry...  But I won’t be able to come back after we go, so I guess we don’t have much longer together.  Sorry.”  He laughed, almost to himself.  “Or not, maybe you’re glad the incessant chattering will be gone from your life.  Maker knows I get tired listening to myself talk, I don’t know how you’ve stood it this long...”

Against his own will, Fenris snorted.  Malcolm’s sides roared with laughter at that.

“Heh.”  Malcolm chuckled, wiping at his eye with his finger to strip away a tear that had rolled out during his laughing fit.  “Then again, I guess this goodbye business will be a nonexistent issue unless I can figure out a way to get us out of here...  Maurevar said that he would allow to leave the Gallows, but unless I find some way to take Leandra and I away without either of us being noticed that won’t help me much...  It’s not as though I can swim to the docks and collect her.  You’ve seen how well water and I get along, after all.”  A clear reference to how they had first met.  “Even if I somehow managed it, I’d be drenched and sure to attract attention.  I’ll have to—”

“Can you get word to her by tonight?”

And just like that the long years of silence were broken.

Malcolm froze before outright gawking at him.

Fenris bristled slightly at being subject to such attention.  “Can you?”  He repeated insistently.

It took Malcolm another moment or so to gather his bearings, but once he had managed to compose himself he swallowed and nodded once.  “I—Yes.  Yes, I can.  Why?”

“Gather your belongings and meet me here, tonight.  I will do what I can, ensure that she is ready and makes her way to the docks by midnight.  Do you understand?”

“I... Yes I understand.”  Clearly Malcolm was still reeling from this sudden revelation, but he pushed his confusion aside and placed his trust in him.  “I’ll make sure that she knows.”

Fenris grunted in response before wading away from him, presumably to make whatever preparations he had before night fell upon the city.

“Um! Wait!”  Fenris froze.  “I...  Look, thank you so much.  Whatever you’re going to try, just, thank you.  I know it’s a lot to ask but, would you mind telling me your name?”

With only a moment’s hesitation on his end, Fenris smirked ever so slightly and met his gaze. 

“Fenris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you feel it? Can you sense Garrett Hawke looming just over the horizon?  
> You'll be meeting him within an update or two so please stay tuned!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you're getting this one a little bit earlier than usual because I have obligations which will prevent me from posting on tomorrow on Sunday (but nothing to prevent me from setting the publication date as such!). :)
> 
> As usual, if you see any typos, please let me know!

Fenris lifted a small boat from the dockside when the workers were scare to be found.

It was a sad little thing to be sure and he was uncertain of its purpose.  Perhaps a small fishing boat?  If anything it seemed more for recreational use than the large ships and boats that went to port in Kirkwall’s docks.  Its oars dangled precariously over the edge and he halted long enough to stow them in its center before proceeding with his plan, sure that it would be little missed.

He swam beneath it, guiding it away from the dockside and to the crumbling wall that marked where he and Malcolm so often met these past few years.

Night fell sooner rather than later and Malcolm emerged in a fresh set of clothes (considerably less magey looking than before, Fenris couldn’t help but note), a knapsack near overflowing with food, and his staff strapped to his back.

He practically beamed when he saw the mer with the boat. 

“How did you—?!”

“Don’t ask, get in.”

Malcolm readily complied, loading what meager possessions he owned into the boat and settled himself in nicely.  Before he could even reach for the oars, Fenris dove under the water and proceeded to direct the boat back towards the docks.

Leandra was waiting for them, just as planned.

Malcolm stepped out and helped her step into the rowboat and settle before sitting back down.  Yet again, Fenris set about sending the boat into the water and it was only once they were well out of sight of the Gallows and Kirkwall that he halted the boat and poked his head up out of the water.

Leandra had been warned in advance by Malcolm via the letter that had arrived for her earlier that day that the person helping them would be a bit...  Strange, but this was considerably more than she had expected.

Still, she was nothing if not prepared.  After all openly gawking was largely frowned upon by high society, so she schooled her features appropriately even as more of Fenris’s body surfaced revealing exactly how _not_ human he was.

Malcolm and Fenris spoke quickly, Fenris asking which way the man wished him to direct the small craft and Malcolm gesturing this way and that until Fenris eventually led their boat to the banks opposite the shores of the Free Marches, docking them in record time.

As they stepped out onto shore, Malcolm free for the first time in his life and Leandra liberated of the rules and expectations of aristocracy for the first time in hers, Fenris shifted backwards towards the open sea.

“This is as much as I can do for you.”

“This is more than I ever could have hoped for, thank you Fenris!”  Malcolm gushed, practically beside himself as he took Leandra’s hand in his and looked around.  “I never thought I’d...  Thank you.  Just, thank you so much.”

Fenris only nodded in response.

Their goodbyes were quick and to the point, neither seeing the need to prolong the inevitable, though Malcolm’s eyes were suspiciously wet as he turned inland and stalked away from the shore.  Leandra hesitated before they were through the clearing though, exchanging a few words quickly with Malcolm, who nodded to her as he took a bag from her, before turning to run back down the beach and asked for him to wait a moment.  Curious, the mer complied, treading water in the shallows near the surf as she shuffled along, hiking up her skirt to walk through the water in a bid to get closer to him though she halted in the shallows. 

She smiled at him and he felt himself blush, a bit embarrassed to be looked at with such clear admiration as was present in her eyes.  Leandra held out a pouch, one he assumed she had pulled from that bag she had traded off to Malcolm and looked at him questioningly as she shifted it in a manner suggestive of throwing something meant to be for him to catch.  Fenris caught on quickly, holding up both hands just before she threw the pouch and plucked it from the air.

“It isn’t much,”  She started as he began pulling at the drawstrings of the velvet pouch, which rubbed against his hands most pleasantly.  “I took some of my jewelry with me, I meant to pawn it off so we would have something to start settling with but,”  She beamed at him as he turned the bag over and saw what she had given him, awestruck.  “I wanted to thank you somehow, and this is really all I have that I could think to give.”

It was a necklace.  Simple, tasteful, yet elegant all at once.  A droplet of jade set carefully in silver resting at the bottom of a long chain.  His hands fumbled a bit with the clasp, but he eventually managed to settle it around his neck and the jade rested just above his clavicle.  Once he was sure that it was secured, he looked up at her and smiled, albeit a bit shyly, and nodded his thanks.

She smiled in turn herself before turning to race back up the shore to where Malcolm stood in the distance.  As they turned to face him one last time, both of them waving at him as they called out their own respective farewells and thanks, he knew that this was going to be far harder than he had anticipated. 

Tentatively, he raised one of his own hands and waved back, feeling a wave of pride wash over him as they began to wave back even more enthusiastically at so simple a gesture despite himself.  They stayed there a few measly moments longer before they finally stopped waving and calling out to him, turning to walk away, never looking back. 

Fenris clutched at the jade droplet resolutely.

This separation, he realized, was going to hurt him more than he would ever care to admit.

As he watched them become smaller and smaller and finally disappear into the foliage, he felt his heart ache for the first time in a long time, throbbing with a feeling that Leto had known so well.

And just like that, he was alone again.

*             *             *

Even after Malcolm left with Leandra, Fenris found himself lingering in the waters outside of Kirkwall. 

Perhaps, he hoped, he could stay where he was.  The Wounded Coast had plenty of fish and plants to pick from and there were countless caverns in the area.  He had shifted near endlessly from the time of his escape up until he met Malcolm and had yet to encounter Danarius, Hadriana, or any sign of men who may be associated with them.  He knew that he would never call it home and that he would eventually move on for one reason or another, but for a moment he thought he could stay.  At least for a little while. 

He should have known better than to believe such luck would continue.

Within a few months of helping Malcolm and Leandra flee, a ship flying Tevinter colors docked in Kirkwall’s bay.  At first he tried to disregard the incident as separate from him.  Rationalized that Tevinter may have come in hopes of trading with Kirkwall (though if the information he received from Malcolm was to be believed then the city should still have an embargo against them). 

It wasn’t until his markings lit ablaze he realized he could no longer deny the connection.  He felt like he was burning alive.  It was as unwelcome as it was unexpected.  He felt like he didn’t belong in his own skin, like he himself was a separate entity from his body, but at the same time it felt like he was being violated over and over without relent. 

It took all of his willpower to tear away from the pain and force himself to swim onward.

Though disoriented, and despite hitting several rocks and underwater formations lining the area, he managed to power himself away from the area.  The little bit that he had stored away in a cavern off the coast (the chest Malcolm had given him along with its trinkets, a few fishbone blades, and so on) forgotten as his instincts took over and he fled.

He vaguely felt the tug of magic trying to call him back, to reel him in towards the ship docked in the bay, tugging on him through his markings as one might drag a dog. 

It was only once he was well beyond the boundaries of the city limits that he felt the pulling subside.

Though he had not seen them himself, he knew without a doubt that either Hadriana or Danarius had to have been aboard the craft by the pulses he had felt run through the markings and felt the anger that had been waning return full force.

He had no chance against their forces.  Not now, at least. 

He weighed the pros and cons of saying _screw it_.  Of returning to the docks, despite the inevitability of defeat, to take one last charge at the bastards.  He knew that they would never simply let him die though, no.  That would be too kind. No matter how much of a suicide mission it may seem, one of them would ensure his survival and he would return to that hell he had barely escaped last time.

It would take careful planning and calculating to take them on. 

In the end, he decided to flee. 

He would run away one last time.  He would float from place to place, just long enough for them to lose his trail again.  Then, after he was sure his trail had gone cold and they had lost the means of immediately pursuing him, he would find a place to settle.

He would fortify an area and next time he would turn and face the tiger, circumstances be damned.  He would fight.  He would live or he would die.

If he was lucky, they would die before they could locate him again and he would be long forgotten, lost to their peers and potential heirs.  If he was unlucky, as he so often was, he would be tracked down yet again, forced into a corner and have to fight.

As he swallowed his pride, bit his lip as his ire overtook him and licked his wounds as he fled, shamed in his flight. 

It never occurred to him that his wretched life may take a turn for the better for once in his life.

It never occurred to him that the lovers he saved would give him just what he needed.

He never expected Garrett Hawke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be considerably longer than this one and will mark the transitioning point for easing into the actual story, the one that got you all reading in the first place (you know, the one in the story summary/description?). I feel like I've really been teasing you guys (not that I've wanted to!) with all of this backstory leading up to Fenris and Hawke actually meeting, but I feel like if I'd made it any shorter it would not have done the story any justice.
> 
> That said, I hope that you all will continue to read and enjoy "Stranger Tides" as much as I have thus far. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Lothering was a quaint little village in Ferelden.

It was known to most only as a crossroads.  People came and went regularly through its streets, yet, despite this fact, the inn was hardly ever full.  At one point, it had been a thriving community bustling as men and women set up trade in its local markets and used it as a shortcut to just about anywhere.  There was never a dull moment in those days.  Children ran around the settlement, frolicking in the dirt with the mabari hounds that Ferelden was so well known for as they played the usual games of Mage vs Templar and Dragonslayer.

The village had suffered greatly ever since the capital had shifted from Redcliffe to Denerim, thus effectively shifting the preferred routes of travel for most of the nation.  Nowadays, Lothering itself was largely forgotten by all except for those who still lived there. 

The buildings had faded with age, once lively structures now only sad shadows of their former selves, and even the old windmill cricked and ricked as it strained to serve its purpose.  The only attractions which still seemed to be standing was a small bar known to locals as Dane’s Refuge, tended to by an indentured servant and the family it was named for, and the local Chantry (if that could even be counted as entertainment).

Still, Garrett Hawke loved his hometown with every fiber of his being.

He had been born in Lothering in the dead of winter, a few short months after his parents had settled into the town.  His father found work as a sharecropper, laboring less for coin and more for safe shelter and warm meals for his young wife and new babe.  His mother stayed at home; the farmer’s wife was kind enough to help her learn a trade and soon enough she was working alongside the woman as a seamstress and making money of her own. 

The farmer and his wife grew very fond of them in fact.  They had no children of their own and spoiled the Hawke children rotten in their early years, giving them a permanent residence when they passed on and generously willed their farm to the Hawke family.  It was a bittersweet farewell, but in truth Garrett remembered little of it.  He had only been five when they died but each day he lived in Lothering he grew a bit more grateful to them, knowing full well they likely would have moved on long ago if they had not been blessed with the home.

He had fond memories just about everywhere he looked in their village. 

Under the apple tree in the backyard he had tumbled and played with his younger sister and brother, Bethany and Carver.  In the clearing which locals knew as the old crossroads he had met his mabari, Ser Woofey (creative he knows—he was thirteen at the time and very susceptible to Bethany’s puppy eyes he might add).  He had cast his first spell in his family’s kitchen by accident and his father had trained him just outside of the Kocari Wilds borders after that, Bethany joining them a few short years later.

He had met Aveline in the school house when they both children and considerably less impressive than they were now (though if that attested to much he was not sure).  She had been round in the face and a little chubby then, but she still stood up for others even when they picked on her for it.  He had liked her immediately, befriending her early on, and had breathed a breath of relief when she, having been present when he came into his magic, swore herself to secrecy and vowed never to say a word.  When she married her late husband, Wesley Vallen, Maker bless his soul, she had gone to great lengths to ensure she stood by her word, never wanting to go back on it.

Shortly after Aveline, he met Anders, on his third escape from the Circle.  They had hidden him for a time, taking pity on him as a family with several mages and overly protective of him due to he and Garrett being the same age.  Leandra had almost cried when he left them, in the dead of night no less, with nothing but a note.  He returned years later a broken shell of the boy they remembered.  Something in him had changed, though they knew not what or how much of him had been affected.  He set up shop not too far from their home, masquerading as an herbalist by day and moonlighting as a healer by night.

In the tavern, later in his life, he met Isabela.  She had laughed at him when his father let him have his first drink, hardly able to keep down the liquor and retching before the night was over.  She had been kind afterwards though, urging him to drink _at least_ a glass of water for every glass of alcohol he consumed after seeing what a lightweight he was.  She was nice to his father too, occasionally “forgetting” to charge drinks to their tab and teased Carver when he became old enough to join them. 

More memories and more friends came further down the line.  Merrill at the old Dalish campsite on the outskirts of town, Varric Tethras just outside of Dane’s Refuge talking to Isabela, Sebastian Vael in the Chantry shortly after his transfer, and so on and so forth.

The point was, Lothering would always hold a special place in his heart.  He was Ferelden from head to toe and the village only solidified that fact.  He knew that did not resonate as entirely with his parents as it did him and his siblings, being Kirkwallers who seemed horrified when referred to so simply as Marchers.  They had only ever known Lothering and it was easy for them to love it, natural even. 

His mother spoke at length about their estate whenever the subject was brought up.  His father, while not as attached to Kirkwall (specifically its Gallows) as his mother, seemed to miss the bay more than anything else.  Or, rather, not the bay so much as a creature that had allegedly loomed in its depths.

He’d heard the stories.  He and his siblings had all but committed them to memory at this point.

Stories of Fenris, a creature from myth, who had helped his parents escape Kirkwall as well as keep his father company in the years leading up to meeting their mother.  From what he had gathered Fenris was quiet, private, and a bit intimidating but kind regardless. 

When he was a boy, his father often took him on day trips down to the coast.  It was rocky and ragged, the waters turbulent more often than not the further you got from the shore, just as it was in Kirkwall, apparently.  His father always made a game of scanning the horizon and searching the rocks, telling him that if he lucky enough maybe one day he would get to meet Fenris.

As a child, he had been absolutely enthralled.  He wanted to know anything and everything about Fenris.  Much to his dismay, the actual information his father knew about the mer was extremely limited. 

 _“I didn’t even know that he could speak until the end.”_   His father had eventually confessed when Garrett grew frustrated by the lack of information being provided.  _“I knew that he could understand me.  I could tell by the way he responded to me, his face said a lot of what his mouth didn’t.”_

In the end, Garrett had only the knowledge of what Fenris looked like and the games he had liked best from the variety offered up by his father in youth.  (He had been particularly happy that both he and Fenris preferred paddleball.)  As he grew up though, he began to dismiss more and more of the stories as nonsense.  There was no way such a creature existed; he was more than likely a child’s tale his parents had made up to substitute the actual tale of his parents’ escape, which he concluded was likely much more violent and graphic than what he had dubbed the “Fenris Version.”

Which was what made his current situation so very complicated.

*             *             *

“Garrett!! _Garrett!"_   A pillow being brought down upon his head repeatedly is what finally earned his undivided attention.  He grumbled under his breath and reluctantly rolled over, away from the comfortable warmth of his blanket cocoon to stare at Bethany.  He blinked, trying to will the sleepy haze from his eyes, and dragged a hand over his mouth to cleanse his beard of any drool it had likely been subjected to in the night.  He yawned, still groggy, and his sister rolled her eyes in bemusement.  “Garrett...”

“Erhm...  What time is it?”

“Half past noon, sleepyhead.  You told poor Serah Jenkins that you would help him on his boat, remember?”  That he did indeed remember.  Frederick Jenkins’s son, Joseph, had caught a rather nasty cold a few days before and he had committed to helping him reel in his usual haul of fish. 

Garrett groaned, holding his face in his hands a few moments before he rose.  “ _Shit_...  I slept in.”

“You’re lucky it was me who noticed and not Carver, he’d tell mother but I won’t.”

“Ser Woofey!”  He whined as he struggled to pull on his trousers frantically, drawing the attention of the mabari sleeping in the corner of the room.  “I told you to wake me up at eight!”

Ser Woofey inclined his head towards him and let out a whine, presumably as a means of apology.

“Now don’t blame him, Garrett.”  Bethany giggled as she walked closer to him, allowing him to rest some of his weight on her as he tugged his boots on.  “He’s old, he needs his rest.  _You_ on the other hand,”  She laughed again as her brother almost sent himself flying into the dresser in his hurry to find a shirt to wear.  “You’re a farmer’s son, most farmer’s sons are up on their own before the rooster can even wake them, but you sleep through even his crow!”

“ _Ha.  Ha.  Ha._ ”  He droned sardonically.  “I know Bethy, I’m pathetic.  You need not remind me.”

“You’re not pathetic Garrett!  You’re just a heavy sleeper.”

“And pathetic.  You forgot to say pathetic.”

She rolled her eyes again, just as good natured as before.  “If you leave right now and run the rest of the way, you should be able to make it on time.  _And,_ ”  She started, smiling at him as he hurriedly brushed his teeth and leaned over the basin to spit before crossing the room.  “Will most decidedly _not_ be pathetic.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Beth, never change.”  He thanked her and kissed her cheek in way of goodbye before turning to sprint down the stairs, praying to both the Maker and his bride that the rest of his family would not notice.

“Be safe!!” 

*             *             *

“I’m so sorry that I’m late, ser!”  Garrett’s apology tumbled out before he could even help it.

Frederick laughed.  “It’s fine, Hawke.  You’re right on time, actually.  Help me throw this stuff in the back and we’ll start for the coast.”

 _Hawke._   That was something that was going to take more than a little bit of getting used to.

After his father’s accident the year before, Garrett had to step up as head of the family (though he still deferred to his mother most of the time) and their village had started to acknowledge him as such. 

 _Hawke_.

It didn’t feel like it belonged to him...  It was his name as much as it had been Malcolm’s and as much his name as it was Carver’s.  It felt odd to be addressed as such when all his life it had been his father who had been "Hawke" .  He disregarded such thoughts though and focused his attention on following the directions being given to him now as he loaded the boat.

Within an hour they were headed to the ocean.

*             *             *

As soon as he saw the water recede, dipping lower and going further out to sea, Garrett had been filled with dread.  Frederick, seeing what was happening, told him to power on and follow its lead.  Apparently if they could get far enough out then when the tsunami hit, they would (hopefully) be able to avoid being thrown about by its waves and potentially capsizing.

A tsunami.

_A fucking tsunami._

_‘Just another day in the life of Garrett Hawke.’_   He couldn’t help but think dryly to himself as he and Serah Jenkins made a mad dash for the sea.  It was just his luck to be caught out in such a thing.  _‘At least Varric will be able to make it sound better when I tell him.  That is,_ if, _I survive long enough to tell him.’_  

In the end, they didn’t make it in time.  Or they did, kind of. 

Instead of being over the crest of the wave before it broke as they’d hoped they were going over it right as it broke and, in true Garrett Hawke fashion, Garrett was flung from the back of the boat directly into the path of its break when it crashed.

*             *             *

Fenris hadn’t been there long when he felt the water begin to shift.  Maybe a day or two at longest.

He felt the water start to pull further out to sea, but didn’t pay it much thought.  He could easily outswim the tugging of the waves if he had to and with the multitude of rocks along the coast to cling to he doubted that he would have to resort to even that much.

He continued to scout out the water, taking advantage of how clear it now was as animals fled its depths in hopes of not getting swept ashore by the tsunami’s inevitable break.

That was when he noticed it.

A modest fishing boat, trying so desperately to get beyond the crest before it could break.

He watched, transfixed, as it continued to climb and climb and climb... 

 _‘It’s going to make it...!’_   

He couldn’t believe it.  

Sure enough the little boat managed to clear the crest, but not without sacrifice.  A man flew from the back of the craft just moments before it was cleared, tumbling into the water’s unforgiving depths as the boat itself was propelled inland, and consequently away from the man himself, by the great wave.

That wasn’t what caught his eye the most though.

Rather, it was the man’s face.  He knew that face...  It belonged to—

_‘Malcolm?!’_

That was impossible.

Even if he hadn’t done much in regards of keeping track of time passed in the years that followed he knew that there was absolutely no way that Malcolm would still be as young as the day they had parted.  Yet here he was, apparently, struggling in the water not so differently than he had the day that they had first, in a manner of speaking, met. 

(What if it was Malcolm, somehow? Could he forgive himself for leaving him behind if it was?) 

He hesitated at first, but seeing the man be pulled this way and that by the water, seeing him gasp so desperately for breath when there was no air to draw it from, seeing him suffer so... The sight drove any resistance that lingered from his body and he charged.  He charged straight for the man, plucking him from the water and pulling him along as he made haste for a place he had discovered earlier in the day, a cavern just off the coast.

It was not very far from where they were and a far better alternative than allowing the human to surface in the middle of the ocean where another wave may yet appear and subject him to greater risk of drowning.  Upon entering it, noting with delight that the air pocket there remained as per his assumptions, he dumped the man most unceremoniously on the slab of rock at the edge of the water and rolled him onto his side.

The man lay stoically a few moments.  Fenris’s heart dropped momentarily at the idea of him being dead and he hit the human’s back several times in hopes of forcing him to expel the water he had inhaled.  The hits had their desired effect and sure enough the man began heaving, retching up the water as he rolled over and curled in on himself, gripping at his stomach as he continued to heave.

After a minute or so coughing began to accompany his gagging.  The man now lay suspended in what appeared to be a near endless cycle of retching, dry heaving, and coughing.  Fenris winced as some of the liquid found its way into the water he waded in, but approached the man regardless, deeming him harmless enough in his current state.  He tentatively settled a hand on the man’s back and patted, more gently than before, as he rode out his misery.

Eventually, the man collapsed on the rocks, breathing heavily as he forced his head to lull to the side in favor of regarding his savior.  His eyelids quivered before lifting so he could look at the mer beside him, which was exactly when Fenris’s heart stopped and he froze, suddenly paralyzed.

His eyes.

Malcolm’s had been a warm, amber color.

He might have his face but—

His eyes were a cool, navy color.

Dread pooled in the pit of Fenris's stomach as his fears became reality. 

_This was not Malcolm._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A wild Hawke has appeared!!_
> 
> And so the true tale begins. 
> 
> I hope that you're all prepared. I mean, this is _Hawke_ we're talking about, you really had better be prepared. The man is ridiculous. (Yes, you'd better believe "winning Fenris over" is going to result in some really strange situations.)
> 
> We're also, incidentally, catching up quickly to what I had written up to this point. I'm going to try and get ahead, but I don't want to force a chapter out or halfass it because I rushed it alongside my homework, so if it needs to be delayed I'll put an announcement on the next chapter. You will definitely still get an update next Sunday by the way, I have it all typed up and ready. :) Fingers crossed I can pump out some more this week!! :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's safe to say these two have a rocky start to their relationship...

Outright shock flashed across his savior’s face, as well as the markings covering his body (in a more literal sense in the latter’s case).

His vision was still a little fuzzy, but Garrett could tell he was disturbed by whatever it was that he saw.

As soon as he could see things clearly, a few sessions of strategic blinking later, he himself couldn’t he but mirror the expression written on the mer’s face.

_‘No fucking way.’_

Hair as white as snow.  Strange, winding markings which covered his entire body.  Webbed fingers with pointed talons protruding at the tips.  Fin like appendages in the place of ears.  (Were those ears?  They were right?  Had to be...  Right?)  A black, scaly tail...

“... Fenris?” 

Shock morphed into horror and he felt the world go black moments after impacting an unknown object.

*             *             *

When he came to, he was bound, but also noticeably not gagged so he counted it as a win.

Or as much of a win as being bound in an unknown place with a complete stranger could be.

 _‘Look at me, expanding my horizons.’_   He thought to himself sardonically. _‘Isabela would be so proud.’_  

“You are awake.”  An unknown voice noted from within the cavern.  Garrett inclined his head to the side to regard its speaker and was met with a slightly luminescent, mossy gaze bearing into him from the water’s edge distastefully.

 _‘Well shit.’_  He gulped.  “That I am.”  He eventually settled on, though it was decisively the most boring and disappointing response he felt he could have chosen he was admittedly at an utter loss as to how one was supposed to deal with a situation such as this.

The creature’s eyes narrowed.  “How did you know my name?”

“I’m sorry—What?”

“My.  Name.”  He growled, and Maker if the situation weren’t so damning he would have been reduced to a tittering, idiotic puddle of goo at the rumbling baritone that just tore its way out of his throat. 

As it was though, and to quote Varric, he was almost certainly screwed six ways to Sunday.  No time to be a puddle of goo then, no matter how enjoyable it might have been.

“Fenris?”  When the mer cringed Garrett knew he had hit the mark and couldn’t believe it. 

Fenris was real.

Fenris was _real?!_

He forced himself to reign in his shock when the creature, now confirmed to be Fenris, repeated his question.

“ _Where_ , did you learn my name?”

No point in lying.  “My father told me about you.”  He eventually managed and some of the suspicion painting Fenris’s face fell away; Garrett took it as a sign to keep talking.  “I mean, assuming you _are_ the same Fenris that helped Malcolm Hawke and Leandra Amell escape Kirkwall...  You got them to the outskirts of Gwaren and—”

Fenris’s brows raised.  “You’re Malcolm Hawke’s progeny then?” 

“Yes!  My name is Garrett.  Garrett Hawke.  Though I guess that that much should have been obvious, huh?”  He grinned.  “Unless you thought that maybe when Father ran off we’d all become Amells, but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it.  “Garrett Amell” versus “Garrett Hawke”?  I think “Hawke” wins out in the end, “Amell” sounds too similar to “Gamlen Amell” to me.” Garrett prattled.

“From what I had gathered,”  Fenris began coolly, calming a bit as he tried to process this revelation.  “Gamlen was a prig, but he was a prig with good intentions.”

“Did you actually meet Gamlen then?  I’ve never had the pleasure...  Or maybe displeasure?  Anyways, I’ve never gotten to meet him.  Mother complains about him whenever he comes up, but it kind of reminds me of how I feel about Carver so I figure he can’t be _too_ bad...”

“Carver?”

“My younger brother. He and our sister, Bethany, are twins.  They’re both five years younger than I am.”

“... Did Malcolm have any other children?”

“No, not to my knowledge.  Just the three of us I’m afraid.”  Garrett laughed nervously.

“Hmm...”

“You’re much more talkative than he led me to believe, you know?”

Fenris ruffled a bit at that.  “And?”

“Nothing, it’s just..."  He trailed off, shook his head and discarded whatever thought he had been working on.  Fenris frowned but Garrett looked up just in time to meet it with a smile.  "You know, Father used to tell me to check the water whenever I was near the sea or on a beach; said if I was lucky enough then maybe one day I’d get to see you.”

The mer scoffed.  “ _"_ _Lucky”?_   ”  He repeated incredulously.  “Not quite the word I would have used…”

“You pulled me out of the water didn’t you?  I’d say I was very lucky that you were where you were when I fell in.  I probably would have drowned if you hadn’t been there.” 

A fair point.  “I met your father in a similar situation.”

“Must be something with us Hawkes and water then, I’ll have to warn the twins.  And mother, actually.  I mean, she’s a Hawke now too, technically.”  Garrett had a sudden realization and grimaced.  “Actually, if you don’t mind my asking, how long have I been here?”

Fenris raced a brow.  “About a day, why?”

“ _Shit_.”  Garrett swore.  “Could you untie me?  I need to get home, Mother and the twins—”  He started.  “Oh fuck, they probably think I’m dead—!”  He started struggling against his binding.

Fenris watched him a try to break free for a few short moments before sighing and approaching the ledge where Garrett had been deposited earlier.  “I can get you to the beach and cut your bonds, but only once we reach the beach.  Is that acceptable?”  Garrett halted his attempts and nodded.  Fenris pulled himself up on the ledge, reached for him then paused, contemplative.  “If you struggle or try to fight me, I _will_ leave you.  Malcolm’s son or not.”

Garrett swallowed hard but nodded his assent.  “Fair enough.”

*             *             *

Garrett Hawke.

Fenris, admittedly, was still trying to wrap his head around that little revelation.

That would explain his resemblance to Malcolm, at least.

As he pulled the man down into the water with him, intent on heading to shore, he couldn’t help but think about the situation and all its implied details more thoroughly.

For one thing, this was very telling of the amount of time that had passed since he left Kirkwall’s bay.  He had never really kept track of time in much detail before, but he found it hard to believe that so much of it had passed without his acknowledgement. 

Garrett Hawke was about the same age, presumably, as Malcolm Hawke had been the last time Fenris had seen him when he and Leandra disappeared from his line of sight and headed inland for Ferelden.  He tried to gauge exactly how much time had passed with that knowledge, but it was hard to tell as he’d never had any idea how old Malcolm had been at any point in their relationship.

Regardless, using Dorian and Felix as a point of reference, he could assume that roughly twenty or so years had passed since he had last interacted with a human, and therefore twenty or so years had passed since he’d seen that Tevinter ship docked in the harbor.

That was a long time to go without a sign of Danarius or Hadriana, but he was not ready to write them off just yet.  Twenty years was not so long that either of them were certain to be dead, after all.

Still, he could loom on that point later.  What was most pressing to him now was the bizarreness surrounding this encounter overall.

How likely was it that he would encounter anyone of Malcolm’s bloodline?

It was most certainly odd, he’d have even gone so far as to say suspicious if it weren’t for the fact that their first encounter involved Garrett almost drowning rather than approaching him some other way.  (Like his father indeed; what was the issue between Hawkes and water?  Did they slight each other in some way in another life?)

It was a lot to take in, for him and Garrett both.

The man had taken the revelation of his existence very much in stride, but he could tell by the look on his face throughout much of their discussion that it probably hadn’t all sunk in and been processed yet.  He seemed to be saving face well enough right now, but he would probably need more time to truly understand what had happened.

Fenris, for his part, felt very much the same.  It was almost too much too fast to be so suddenly thrust into this encounter and for it to mirror his encounter with Malcolm this much was rather unnerving, even if it was unintended.

When they finally neared the beach, Garrett having proved honest as he remained nothing but pliant the entirety of the trip (much to Fenris’s satisfaction), he wasted no time in riding himself of this new, younger Hawke.

They got to the shallows of the water, just deep enough for Fenris to swim and just shallow enough for Garrett to stand on his tiptoes, and Fenris made quick work of the makeshift seaweed binding Garrett’s hands together.  He still clutched the man’s hands though, issuing a swift warning before relinquishing them. 

“You will head for land as I swim out and not turn back until you reach it, do I make myself clear?”

It felt a little unfair to treat him with such suspicion, Fenris admitted with some reluctance to himself as Garrett nodded and they pushed off in their respective directions, but he just couldn’t help himself.  He was still reeling over the entirety of what had happened.  On top of it all the fact that he had interacted _physically_ with a human in a way he hadn’t in decades, maybe even centuries now that he thought of it.  He had blindly believed that Garrett was Malcolm and been far more trusting than he should have ever been with a stranger and it was all due to carelessness. 

He bit his lip as he turned to regard the figure staggering across the beach, struggling to lift its own weight and stand properly, as he considered that realization.  It was disturbing to see how freely he trusted after so many years of being careful.  He should have known better.

He toyed with the pendant around his neck a bit nervously, turning away from the beach and beginning his descent into the water when he heard Garrett call out an awkward series of thanks and wished him well. 

A chill ran down his spine.

Like father, like son indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've breached the backstory to arrive at the more pertinent portions of the story! Congrats everyone! We made it! :D 
> 
> I don't know _exactly_ how long per say that this story will be in all, but I've got a good portion planned. At the same time though, I don't want it to be too too long, because I feel like it'd just be dragging it out at that point. When I have a more definitive idea of how long it'll be, I'll be sure to mention it so please keep checking the notes ok? Ok! :) 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any typos, I was cutting it close to update on Sunday so I'll be back to edit later! Please let me know, as always, if you see anything you feel needs to be corrected! :D
> 
> Also, if I may make a request, please read this week's end notes if you don't mind! Thank you! :)

Garrett returned home without much incident after Fenris set him loose on the beach. 

His family was thrilled of course (even Carver showed his relief in his own very Carver-y ways).

He was thrilled too, of course, but his celebration was tapered with as he continued to grapple with the realization that Fenris— _Fenris_ of all people—was real.

He didn’t know what to do with that tidbit of information.  He really didn’t.

He hadn’t confided in anyone yet either.  In fact, he had spent the better half of the first week since the incident in a complete stupor.  _Fenris was real._   He didn’t tell his mother, she was only just recovering from Malcolm’s death and he feared the mention of their savior would set her back in her path to healing, and he did not think his siblings would believe him—he most certainly wouldn’t have—so he kept it to himself.

Well, himself and Ser Woofey that is.  The mabari made for a very good listener.

Then, just as suddenly as it had stuck, as the stupor morphed into fascination.  _Fenris was real._ He never even thought for a moment this could have been possible.  Hell, it shouldn’t have been possible.  Mermaids (Would Fenris take offense to that term?  Prefer another term?  Mer people?  Merfolk?  Mer...?  Merman...?) had only existed in legends and his father’s tales up until this point.

Suddenly, Garrett found himself wishing he had asked more about Fenris growing up instead of giving up when the ones provided ceased to sate his curiousity.  As a small child, he had been enthralled by the tale of his parents’ escape.  He had been fascinated by the idea of Fenris, he had even gone out to the beach at night by himself at times in hopes of finding and befriending the mer who helped his mother and father escape to Lothering.

Yet now here Fenris was, in his own backyard in a sense, and Garrett had no idea how to go about befriending him.  Or more than befriend him give him something, pay him back in some way.  If Garrett got really technical, which had been happening a lot recently, then he owed Fenris two times over.

One time for when his parents escaped, because if it hadn’t been for him then it was very likely Garrett would have either been A) Terminated, or B) Told he was the son of the Comte de Launcet and lied to his entire life.

And now another time, for saving him from a watery grave.

If he really, _really_ wanted to get technical, actually, he supposed he owed Fenris thrice.  If the mer hadn’t saved his father from drowning in his early adolescence neither he nor the rest of his family would even exist...

That was beside the point though (or not really, he just needed to stop thinking before he indebted himself further to a being he may never have the opportunity to repay) and he did the only logical thing he could do.

He would use the tired and tried methods he could remember from his father’s stories.

*             *             *

Games of all sorts appeared on the beach a few weeks after Fenris had rescued Garrett Hawke.

They were easily recognized by the mer.  Most all of them had been offerings to him by Malcolm Hawke, years ago, at some point or another.  It was hard to regard them with suspicion and admittedly, after passing the site several times in-between hunting for fish, he found himself wondering just how much it would hurt to surface long enough to snag one.  It had been awhile since he’d had anything outside of his own thoughts and his surroundings to entertain him.

Still, he refrained.  He had trusted too much for his own comfort a mere few weeks ago and could not help but see danger in giving him to such a whim, harmless though it may seem to be.

For about a week, the beach the only place the toys were.

Then it appeared that the offeror decided it was time to revise tactics.

Soon various knick-knacks and trinkets were drifting in the water and it was always at the same time of day.  Rather than become excited about this development, for the toys were most certainly up for grabs and much more easily attained now, Fenris felt himself growing annoyed.

He couldn’t help but find the act audacious.  It irritated him that the man, he assumed it was a man at least—assumed it was Garrett Hawke more specifically, thought he would be so easily won over.  He flicked his wrist faster as his ire grew, the ball ricocheting to and fro from the wooden paddle he had plucked from the water with increasing speed.  _Who the hell did he think he was?_

When the ball went flying off of the string and into the waters of the cavern, away from his almost lazy position on the rocks he was sitting on, he couldn’t help but grumble to himself though—this time less about the apparent pompous nature of Garrett Hawke and more about the delicate nature of the paddleball the human had offered, he remembered them being so much studier in Kirkwall...

*             *             *

A week or so after the offerings began appearing in the water, he noticed several things change on the surface. 

For one thing there was a very old and very sad vessel now docked precariously along the shoreline, one he almost certainly recognized as the craft he had used to escort Malcolm and Leandra across the Waking Sea.

Secondly, a shadow would appear on the beach at various times during the day.

At first, he panicked thinking that Danarius, Hadriana, or one of their lackeys had found him again, but he quickly realized that conclusion was void.  Even meeting the man once was enough for Fenris to recognize the fumbling on the beach as characteristic of one very specific breed of human:  _Hawke_.

Hawke generally at least—this one was without a doubt more than likely Garrett.

He watched the figure stumble and struggle in its hiding place on the beach for a time, allowing his irritation to bubble beneath the surface all the while, as he contemplated his options.

Option A)  He tells Garrett to go the fuck away.

Option B)  He confronts and interrogates Garrett about why he’s lurking.

Option C)  Ignore Garrett altogether.

Option D)  He leaves the region without a word, moving onto another area.

Option E)  He throws one of the offerings at Garrett’s face.

In the end, he decides on a hybrid between Options B and E.

He surfaced quickly and unannounced, then, with a careful flick of his wrist, he shot the spherical toy with a string wrapped inside it (because like hell he was parting with one of those wonderful paddles with the string and ball attached, even if he had broken each and every one up to this point) directly into Garrett Hawke’s face and hummed in approval as the man jumped up and gripped his nose.

“Why are you skulking?”

_“DID YOU JUST HIT ME IN THE FACE WITH A FUCKING YO-YO?!”_

“I asked you a question first.”  Fenris stated definitively, though he was happy he now knew the name of the horrible contraption that had mystified him upon inspection.  What the so called “yo-yo” was intended for still eluded him though.  He crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded the human.  “Why are you lurking on the beach?”

“Lurk— _I’m not!_   Well,” Garrett paused, presumably to reconsider the situation in greater detail, then blanched.  “Shit...  I must seem creepy as all hell to you.”

“That’s one way of putting it...  You’ve still yet to answer my question.”

“Look!  I know that all things considered this probably looks bad—admittedly I should have thought out my approach more before I went with army crawling on the beach because that’s definitely my bad—but I didn’t mean anything weird or creepy by it, I just couldn’t figure out how to get you to come back.”

That got Fenris’s attention.  He let a low, inhuman growl.  “Come back for what?”

“Andraste’s _ass-cheeks_ please don’t ever do that again!  What _was_ that?!  I didn’t even know that anyone could make that noise!”

“ _Garrett Hawke._ ”

“I needed you to come back so I could ask you how to repay you!”

Fenris paused, any aggressive stances he had taken replaced with those of the considerably confused.  “... Excuse me?”

“Did you really just use my full name?  I thought that was a right reserved for parents chastising their—”

This man was _insufferable_.  “GARRETT.”

 _“Right._ Brief, concise, to the point, not as rambly, got it.  I'll try.”  Fenris stared blankly at him.  The mer was beginning to question how he had ever perceived him as a threat.  Either this was an amazingly well thought out ploy or the man was truly helpless, and Fenris was leaning more towards the latter option.  “You, a great, big, magical, mystical being from myth, helped my mother and father escape Kirkwall and settle here in Lothering.  That’s the first debt.  The second debt came into play when you saved my father from drowning so that Mother and him could meet and thus indirectly result in my birth—thanks for that by the way.  Er, that should’ve been the first debt now that I think about it...  Oh well, moving on!  The final debt I feel I should pay is in exchange for you saving my life—really, _really_ thanks for that one by the way, I quite enjoy life.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”  He really didn’t.  This made no sense to him whatsoever.  Debts? 

“You, uh, you’ve done a great deal for my family.”  It sounded less like a statement and more like a question as it tumbled out of Garrett’s mouth.  “I...  Just...  Look, I’m not good at this stuff, honestly, but I want to repay you for all that you’ve done.  I may not have been present for all of it, but I have certainly benefited from it.  No doubt I have.  So, I just...  Is there anything that you want?”

Sincere, good, _like Malcolm_ , Fenris couldn’t help but think. 

He saw no ulterior motive here, hard to believe as that was.  _‘It must be this family—Surely only Hawkes could be this hopeless.’_  

“I...  No one has ever offered such a thing to me before.”

“No one?"  Hawke looked surprised, if not a bit horrified by that fact.  "What about Father?”

“I did not speak to your father until the end of our relationship when I offered to escort him and his bride from the city, it may very well be that he assumed I would never respond to such an offer but he no—he never offered.”

He had repaid any “debt” he might have had in full though, as far as Fenris was concerned.  He had given him company, though the mer was still loath to admit he had craved it, in a time where he had been very much alone and entertained him in a time where there was very little for Fenris to do.  Even Leandra had offered payment of some sort for his aid in their escape, the jade pendant he toyed with now a permanent reminder of his time near Kirkwall.

“These so called “debts” that you speak of, I have no need for you to pay them.”

“Even so, I want to.  Surely there must be something you want, right?  _Something_.  Everyone wants something.”

 _‘Truer words were never spoken.’_   Fenris mused.  “I’m afraid I cannot think of anything I would want from you.  I...”  He trailed off, a sudden realization racking his frame.  “Wait here.”

*             *             *

When Fenris surfaced minutes later with several broken paddleballs remains gathered together in his hands and solemn expression plastered to his face Garrett was almost certain that he had gone mad and imagined their entire encounter.  He hadn’t though, and soon enough Fenris was insistently forcing the pieces into Garrett’s palm (he was sitting where the surf broke onshore, figuring it would be easiest for both of them to be as in-between the water and the land as possible) and staring at him resolutely.

“Fix them.”

If he hadn’t thought Fenris would kill him, Garrett would have died laughing right then and there.  Instead, he schooled his features as best as he could (Mother had taught him so well!) and bit back the laughter fighting to escape his throat as he considered the broken toys in his hands, turning them over as he spoke.

“Father really wasn’t kidding when he said you liked to play paddleball then...”  He said it more to himself, but Fenris seemed to perk up towards the end of the statement. 

“That’s what it’s called then?  Paddleball?”

“Yes, you’ve really worn these ones out though.  I’m not sure if I can salvage them...”  Fenris’s face looked uncharacteristically horrified for a moment, his ears (ear things?  Garret still didn't know...) drooped as his face fell before he regained his composure and schooled his face into his usual stoic expression.  (His ear-thing-a-ma-jigs were still slightly drooped though, Garrett couldn't help but note.  It was endearing, cute even, in its own way, though he'd not risk entertaining that thought for long.)

“Oh.  I see...”

“I can bring you more tomorrow though!"  Garrett stammered out, afraid that Fenris would leave if he didn't say  _something_ to keep him there.  "You’ll paddleball-less for the night, but if you can hold out I can get you another one.”

“...  You’re... Sure?”

“Yes!  Some of them are even painted, would you like a certain color?”

He really, really must be dreaming.  He was honestly discussing, of all things, _paddleballs_ with Fenris, a mer-something he had only thought a myth until not so long ago.  Not only that, he was treating it with the utmost importance!  Madness.

“... Red.”

“Red?”

“Red.”

“Hm.  Somehow, I would have pegged you as someone who would want black, or maybe blue.  I don’t know, something darker...”  He smiled, amused.

Fenris looked down at his tail briefly, scowling at it as he considered Leto’s life before mastering his features and shifting his gaze back to Hawke, who was now grinning like a fool.  “Red is easier to see in the water.”

“You don’t have to justify it you know, it’s my favorite color too.”

The mer rolled his eyes.  “That so?”

“Yes, in fact.  It’s a perfectly good color.  Underappreciated even.  How many red things do you really see lying around?  Not much red to be found, oh no, but there’s so much—”

“If you are about to rant about how often you have to see certain colors, I’d like to remind you that living in the ocean I have seen more blue than I ever cared to in my life.”

“... Fair enough then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Please read under the "* * *" for irl things that will affect this story. :) Thank you!)
> 
> Fenris doesn't joke around about paddleball ok? He's all business in that respect (as well as many others but that's beside the point.)
> 
> You'll eventually get to see more Dragon Age companions (mostly from II, but a few from Origins as well definitely), but these next few chapters will likely consist largely of Fenris and Garrett getting to know one another. We may very well bounce back and forth occasionally though and see some of Garrett's home life so who knows? You may see them sooner rather than later. I just wanted to add this as a courtesy to say that yes, they exist, and yes, they will appear. You know, in case you were staring at the tags thinking "Hmmmmmm....?"
> 
> * * *
> 
> On a more (currently) relevant note though, I must apologize for how late I'm uploading this chapter! I've tried to make a habit of uploading in the dead of night early in the morning (wowww that sounds like a contradiction but you get it) around midnight when Saturday becomes Sunday because I feel like that gives you all a good chance to read it when you get the chance, but unfortunately I fell ill this weekend and slept like the dead for most of it. Of which, the latter statement leads to my next point—I have unfortunately exhausted my supply of stock chapters, which means there may or may not be one next Sunday. :'(
> 
> Normally, I try to stay a chapter ahead (at least—usually it's two ahead as I try and dream big) but being sick made it all but impossible for me to catch up on this story (*coughcough* WRITE AHEAD *coughcough*) and be a good student at the same time. Needless to say, being a good student took priority (sadly). I still have some papers and a few mid semester tests I need to prepare for, so unfortunately I may not get time to write recreationally this week or the next. D: (So sad!) 
> 
> That being said, I did promise to try and maintain some semblance of an update schedule, so here's what's going to happen: If I miss next Sunday's update, or the following Sunday for that matter, you will (hopefully) receive concurrent updates for those missed on the Sunday that I _do_ wind up updating on. :D So, if I miss two Sundays, you should get three updates when I finally do update, does that make any sense? I really hope it does...
> 
> I'm sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your continued support in reading! I really appreciate it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack!!  
> Good to see you all! (Metaphorically speaking of course!)
> 
> Alright, so, I wanted to drop this here a little early as a kind of thanks for being so understanding about my brief "hiatus" of sorts.  
> (Hopefully) Expect two consecutive updates this upcoming Sunday! (See I've put it in writing, now I will feel pressured to follow through! :'D)
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient and, as always, please enjoy! :D

“Oh this is all so exciting!”  Merrill prattled happily as she watched her friends, Tamlen and Lyna, gather the necessary materials for the paddleballs Garrett had just commissioned.

He laughed.  “Paddleballs?”

“It’s not often that we get orders for children’s toys.”  Merrill stated simply as she began readying the wood for her companions, smile never faltering.  “I understand why of course, most people still don’t want their children playing with toys made by elves, so I’m very happy to see we’re making so many!” 

It made him feel guilty knowing that, unbeknownst to Merrill, the toys were not going to children but to an overgrown grumpy mer-person.

“I’m sure the children in Kirkwall will love them.  Thank you all.”  He lied through his teeth, just so he wouldn’t have to deal with the flash of disappointment he knew would paint Merrill’s face when she didn’t see anyone playing with them.  “I’ll have to commission more when after we trade in the marketplace, so I can hand them out here too!”

“If I may make a suggestion then friend, maybe a little diversity next time then?  You’re going to completely wipe out our red paint!”  Tamlen laughed, the sparkle in his eyes letting Garrett know it was all in good humor.  Still, two could play.

“Oh you _wound_ me messere!”  Garrett whined, gripping his chest melodramatically.  “Right here!  Right in my heart!  Oh it hurts so much!”

“Now, now stop it, Tam.  I think red is a _lovely_ color, Hawke.”  Lyna supplied as she set out various jars with many different shades of red.  “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Oh Lyna, you know that I’m just teasing him.”  Tamlen was quick to remind her and earned a kiss on the cheek for his efforts, his face swiftly adopting the color of the jar she stirred.

“Mahariel, now you’re teasing Tamlen.”  Merrill chided as she called out her friend on her own hypocrisy.  Lyna Mahariel giggled at the accusation.

“The difference, _da’len_ , is that Tamlen signed up to be teased and tormented the day that he married me while Hawke did not.”  She paused, eyes shining mischievously as she looked from her husband to their friend.  “Unless there’s something you’d like to tell me, Tam?  Hawke?”

“Oh no, she’s caught onto us now Tamlen, the jig is up.”

“Alas, my fair wife, you have figured us out.  I, Tamlen Sabrae, am madly _madly_ in love with Garrett Hawke.  A man with a beard so marvelous that even the dwarves fall over mad with jealousy and scream their cries to their precious Paragons.”

“Oh, Tamlen, you truly know how to flatter me!”  Garrett wiped away a fake tear, just for added theatrics, and held his hand to his forehead as though he might swoon.  “Perchance, my dearest, is there any chance you might spirit me away?”  He continued between loud snorts and bursts of laughter between the two Elvhen women in the room.

“Alas, fair Hawke, as seductive as your beard may be and as wonderful as this tryst might have been, in my heart I belong only to one person, Lyna Mahariel Sabrae, _emma sa'lath agus a' vhenan'ara_.”

“Oh, you are _smooth_.”  Lyna cooed and halted her task long enough to lean in and give him a proper kiss, warm and loving, as Merrill awed and Garrett smiled.  He had never seen a couple so in love before, except for maybe his parents.

“I do try, _emma sa’lath_.”  He chuckled as she pulled away, a healthy glow lighting up his face.

Merrill giggled.  “You two are so silly.”

“One day you’ll understand it, _da’len_.  What it means to be stupid in love.  Maybe even you Hawke.”  Though it was clearly intended as a joke meant to tease them both, Lyna said it so decidedly that both Merrill and Garrett faltered a moment, cheeks coloring red.  Then abruptly, perhaps sensing the shift in mood and seeking to redirect it, she laughed.  “Hopefully not with each other though, or we’ll have to kick your _shem_ ass!”

“You already took one great love from me, my friend, do not deny me another!!”  Garrett bellowed, waving his fist to and fro at her.  The trio of elves fell over themselves laughing and Garrett grinned.

Tamlen Sabrae and Lyna Mahariel had come to the small village of Lothering about five or six years before on what the Dalish called _ruith timcheall_ – loosely translated to mean “running around” – a time during which young Dalish elves leave their clan for a period of time in order to decide if they would rather live amongst “the people” or amongst the humans in their cities outside of the nomadic clans.

Tamlen and Lyna had, surprisingly, found Lothering quite charming.  They had been forced to visit the small town initially when Tamlen had rolled his ankle in the Korcari Wilds not so far to the south.  Anders had patched him up relatively quickly but cautioned against traveling on it for a few days all the same, so Lyna and Tamlen had been forced to stay in town.  Not a day or two into their stay they met the Hawke family and became pretty fast friends. 

It was in the days before Malcolm Hawke had passed away and he had done his best to help them settle in, going so far as to convince a local to loan out enough cash for them to set up shop in Lothering and that little shop had worked out very well.  In fact, it had worked out so well that not long into their settling Tamlen had earned enough to forge a ring for Lyna and the two were married.

Most of their work centered around weaponry, Tamlen having proved to be a skilled enough blacksmith that most overlooked his Elvish nature and even came to respect him, but they carried simple crafts and toys as well – even if parents were more than a little hesitant to buy “knife ear toys” for their children – which could be commissioned and were relatively cheap for the general public.

Merrill was a little younger than both Tamlen and Lyna and her _ruith timcheall_ was nearly at an end.  She had come to stay with the two for most of its duration, but after a year of travelling and almost two years in Lothering, she would have to decide whether she wanted to return to the clan and receive her _Vallaslin_ or settle someplace else. 

Honestly, Garrett felt bad for her.  It was very clear that she had been closest to Tamlen and Lyna amongst all her clan mates, they were likely the reason she was hesitating to return, but it was very clear she loved her clan as well. 

She would have to pick soon and Garrett did not envy her one bit.

Secretly though, he truly hoped that she would stay in Lothering. 

He enjoyed her company and the Dalish immigrants lacked the same reservations the public had concerning mages so she, Tamlen, and Lyna were amongst the few outside of his family who he, Bethany, and Anders did not have to worry about hiding their true selves from. 

More than that, though, he also knew for a fact that his little brother, Carver, had been not-so-secretly pining for Merrill since the day they had met and he hoped that her choosing (in theory) to stay in Lothering would allow his brother to act on his all-consuming (and rather _adorable_ , Garrett might add) crush on her.

_(Maker knows Carver could use some help in that particular regard…)_

“You wanted these rushed, right Hawke?”  Tamlen asked as he began carving the paddle out of the wood.

“Ah— Yes, if that’s at all possible.  I, um, kind of forgot how soon I’d need them...”

“Oh no!  Did you forget somebody’s birthday Hawke?”  Merrill asked.

“I— Yes.  Yes, let’s go with that.  Hopeless, you know me.”

Tamlen chuckled.  “Well, as a compensation for “leading you on,” how about you pick these up first thing in the morning?”

“That would be perfect.  Thank you.”

“Is there anything special you want done to these?  Aside from the red paint, obviously.”  Lyna inquired.

Garrett chewed his lip, considerate.  “...  Is there any way that you could waterproof them?  I know that wood doesn’t exactly agree with too much of it...”

Lyna raised a brow, eyeing him funnily.  “A strange request, but yes.  I don’t believe that will be a problem.  Merrill?”

“I can waterproof them for you Hawke.  I’ll even take them to Bodahn’s tonight and have Sandal enchant them just to be sure it’s done correctly.”

“I really appreciate it Merrill.”

“Don’t worry about the fee for it, think of it as a “Congratulations on Not Drowning” discount.”  Tamlen supplied merrily as he handed off the first carved paddle to Lyna for sanding and set about carving the next one.  “Anything else you need while you’re here?”

“No, I’m—actually now that you mention it...”

*             *             *

 “You know, for someone who nearly _drowned_ , you certainly seem to go the beach _a lot_.”

“Now Carver that’s unfair, I’ve always enjoyed the beach.”  Garrett quipped quickly as he loaded the fishing supplies he had purchased from Tamlen into their, very worn out, family boat.  The paddleballs he had commissioned were tucked away under the craft’s seat, wrapped in a couple layers of rags for “added protection” until he could get them to Fenris.

“You may have enjoyed the beach, but you never visited so often in the past.”

“Let it go, brother.”

“ _Garrett._ ”  Carver pressed on, unperturbed.  “You nearly _drowned_ and now you’re going down to the beach and spending nearly all the hours of the day there.  What’s happened?”

“I’m taking up fishing.”

“You’ve not fished a day in your life.”

“Not true, I caught those cute little baby fish for you and Bethany when we were kids.  What was yours named again?  _Serah Swimmy_?”

“ _GARRETT._ ”  Carver growled, insistent.  “I mean it brother!  Mother’s worried for you.  Bethany’s worried for you...”  _I’m worried for you_ was implied as he trailed off. 

He knew his brother well enough to know that behind his gruff attitude Carver’s intentions came from a good place.  Unfortunately, Garrett didn’t feel ready to divulge anything about Fenris just yet, if at all.  After all the mer had only recently started to talk to him, he didn’t want to spook him.

So instead he sighed and turned to Carver prepared to offer some sort of reason for his actions, even if they weren’t entirely true.  “We lost a lot of stock this winter to disease…  I thought that maybe by fishing I would be able to compensate for the loss.” 

It was true.  This past winter had been particularly brutal, even by Ferelden’s standards, and they had lost more than a few cows, pigs, and chickens.  As a result, there would be less animal products to sell in the marketplace.  Carver didn’t need to know that was only a partial motive.

“And you expect me to believe that you decided to take up _fishing_ in the face of this?”

So apparently logical reasoning and rationalization weren’t going to play out in his favor this time with his brother questioning his own reasoning and motives.  Time for a redirect...

“You know, Merrill asked me to accompany her on her trip to Redcliffe for supplies this weekend…”

“... _And?”_

“ _And_ , brother dearest, as I am venturing into the ever ambitious world of fishing and cannot afford to abandon my new craft so quickly, I volunteered you and she smiled and said she would pack you both a nice picnic lunch for the trip.”

“...  So sometimes you’re not so awful.  So what?  D’you want a pat on the back or something?”  Carver grumbled and averted his gaze, but the red in his cheeks did not escape Garrett so easily.

Garrett laughed.  “No, not really.  I do want you to march yourself over there though and talk to her about making arrangements for the trip.  She seemed excited to speak to you.”

Carver stared at him a few moments longer before letting out a rather resentful sigh.  “Fine then.  I’ll let it drop for now.  Just don’t expect me to cover for you out in the fields.”

“I promise to get my farm work done before I set out for the day.  Now, go and see your ladylove about that trip will you?”  

As Carver reddened further and turned to storm off, grumbling all the while about how he most certainly  _not_ going to talk to his "ladylove" Garrett couldn't help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately no Fenris in this chapter, but he's coming back soon I promise (in case you couldn't tell by the end of this installation of _Stranger Tides_ ). He is mentioned though! Also, if you're squinting and wondering about it yes, Lyna is the Mahariel you're more than likely thinking of (the potential Warden from the Dalish background in _Origins_ ). As in this story there is no Blight to fight I can play with the characters from the first game a lot which makes me very happy, in case you couldn't tell! (*coughcough*JOWANSHOULDVEBEENAHINT*coughcough*) You may see other _Origins_ characters appear briefly, maybe even other Wardens, but I make no promises because this is still primarily _Dragon Age II!_ :)
> 
> So a note on the Elvish used here: Most of it is official and taken from in game dialogues/the wiki page (which I used as reference) but some of the filler language (such as "and" and the term "ruith timcheall") were a result of me playing with the "Scots Gaelic" option on Google translate. Thus, I will supply the translations as I intended below.
> 
> **Translation Notes:**  
>  _Da'len_ \- Little one  
>  _"... emma sa'lath agus a' vhenan'ara."_ \- "... my one love and heart's desire."  
>  _Ma'arlath_ \- My love  
>  _Shem_ (or _Shemlen_ ) - Human; Derogatory (but in this instance meant in jest)  
>  _Ruith Timcheall_ \- Essentially, think rumspringa but for Dalish elves. (I wanted a way of incorporating Merrill into the story without having to fit an entire Dalish Clan in here because the story itself is not about Merrill. Plus, I found it a pretty cool idea, and I may play with it later on to be honest. If you'd like to play with it yourself, I'd love to see it! Please message me if you do! :D)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? Have a double update in the middle of the week!  
> (HAHAHAHA this is largely a filler chapter just so you know. I'm dropping this here so you can (hopefully) enjoy the more plot relevant and action (though I use that term loosely) oriented chapters coming up this weekend. :D)
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this update!

It was not long after Garrett had rowed a ways out to sea in his tiny boat that Fenris appeared, looking more than a little confused as he considered the sight before him.

“...  What on earth are you doing?”

“I—Uhhhh...  Fishing?”

“I have seen many things in my life, but... _That_ particular method of fishing is unfamilar to me.  How effective do you think it will be?”  He almost looked smug.

 _‘Bastard.’_   Garrett couldn’t help but think as he continued to struggle in his seat.

He had intended to set up his supplies before Fenris arrived, although he had not realized the mer would arrive so quickly.  Instead of being fully prepared and appearing professional to his new acquaintance, he looked the part of an utter fool.

 _‘Then again, what else is new?’_   Garrett reflected thoughtfully as he attempted to shimmy his way out of the ropes he had gotten himself tangled up in.  “Alright, you caught me.  I’m hopeless at this...”

“Why, pray tell, are you fishing now of all times?  And here of all places?”

“...  Pardon?”

“...  Garrett.  This is literally the worst place to fish right now.  Nothing is here.  I swim to the other side for my meals each day and return here, mostly because the lack of fish here also means a lack of predators to poach my meals...”  Fenris trailed off as he watched Garrett’s face fall in grim resignation.  “...  You really didn’t know that did you?”

“HAHAHA I don’t know what you’re talking about!!”  Garrett laughed sardonically as he took up the oars, dejected.  He started to paddle, an air of defeat all but physically making its presence known.  “I don’t feel dead inside right now.  Nope.  Not like I set up the nets and traps on the wrong side _at all!_   HAHAHAhahaha...”

“Was...  Was that meant to be convincing?”

“Not in the slightest.”  He admitted hollowly.

Fenris felt the corner of his mouth turning up against his will.  This man, Garrett, was most amusing.  He couldn’t help but find amusement as he made what appeared to be an honest (and easily made for a novice, Fenris might add) mistake seem like the end of the world.

“I take it that you’re new to this.”

“You could say that...”  Garrett started, using a rope to pull up one of his fish traps as he frowned.  “Very new actually.”  Fenris quirked a brow up at him inquisitively and Garrett sighed.  “We lost a lot of stock this past winter.  Cattle, pigs, that sort of thing.  I was hoping that by fishing, I may be able to compensate for the lost products...”

“If that’s the case, you could have said as much.”

“Huh?”

“I do not desire for Malcolm’s family to go without, I can point you in the right direction.”

“Oh!  It’s not like we’re going without, don’t worry!”  Garrett swiftly assured him, waving his hands to and fro and shaking his head.  “It’s not like we _need_ need the profit, it’s just nice to have a bit extra in our pockets in case something happens, you know?”

“All the same, I stand by what I said.  It’s evident that I am more experienced in this department, allow me to assist.”

“...  Well, I won’t turn down the help.”  Garrett eventually decided with a grin as he pulled up the last of the traps and gear he had submerged.  Fenris nodded.

“Right then.  If you’re ready, you can follow me.”

“Sounds good to me!”  Garrett beamed at him, oars by his side and at the ready.  Fenris couldn’t help but smile back.  The smile fell a moment as he reached frantically under the seat and withdrew a mound of rags.  “Shit, before I forget though, here you go.”  Garrett tossed the mound into the water, apparently wise enough to realize that though they were conversing now, it was probably not the time to try and make contact with the mer.

Unwrapping the mound revealed several sets of red paddleballs, much to Fenris’s delight.  He tried to hide his excitement of course, schooling his features as best as he could as he thanked the man.  Something in his expression must have betrayed him however, given the excitement written across Garrett’s face as he regarded him.

Then again, it was Garrett.  Fenris was swiftly coming to the conclusion that Garrett Hawke was unlike most people:  Awkward, clumsy, apologetic, slightly panicked at times...  It could have just been how he was.

“I have to admit,”  Garrett started as they began their voyage to the other part of the harbor.  “I really didn’t think that the bit Father told me about you loving paddleballs so much as real, I always thought he just threw that into the stories because they were my favorite growing up.”

Fenris drew back a bit, slowing to swim side by side with Garrett’s boat as they talked.  “Your father left many trinkets for me in his youth, but the...  Paddleball?”  Garrett nodded.  “The paddleball,”  Fenris continued.  “Was probably the most fulfilling for me.  It was also the most straightforward.  I appreciated it.”

“It’s definitely more amusing than running around with wooden hoops like some of the other village kids did.”  Garrett agreed and though Fenris was having a hard time picturing such an image, having never been out of the water himself, he nodded his own agreement as well.  Garrett did not question it, so they moved on.

Then a sudden realization dawned upon Fenris and he couldn’t help but ask.  “I have not seen your father in years, how is he?  Well, I hope.” 

Garrett became very quiet, almost contemplative, for a few moments before casting a melancholic smile the mer’s way.  “I’m sorry to tell you this, but my father passed away a little over a year ago...”

Fenris cringed, the all too familiar feeling of loss he had felt when his friends had died years ago welling up in the back of his throat for the first time in decades as he looked again to Garrett.  “I...  I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.  You couldn’t have known.”

“All the same, the wound is still fresh.  I...”

“No, really Fenris, it’s fine.  You had a right to know, just be glad you didn’t ask me when it happened.  I probably would’ve started crying like a baby out here.”  Garrett admitted.  He rubbed at his eyes, Fenris couldn’t help but wonder if they were stinging but did not dare ask, and turned to look at him with a smile slowly making its way back onto his face.  “Actually, now that I think about it, he’d probably be pretty happy that we met, don’t you think?”

“I honestly can’t say.  I knew your father, but I did not _know_ your father.”  He paused, contemplating he last statement.  “… If that makes any sense.”

“No no, it makes perfect sense.  Really, it does.  I mean, it’s not like you were exactly chatty from what I understood.  But Father loved the sound of his own voice, so I think you got the just at the very least.”  Garrett laughed.  “Mother says I’m a lot like him.”

“I’m inclined to agree.  Though from what I’ve seen, far more awkward.”

“ _Ouch!_   Geez, that stung a bit.  My old man was far more awkward than I am, I assure you!”

Fenris stared at him, blank faced and unconvinced.  “Oh?  Is that so?”

“I am sure!  I mean, you should have heard the stories about him courting Mother!”

“I did hear them.  In real time I might remind you.”

“Yeah—well—I—You haven’t heard them from Mother’s perspective!!”

“I can only imagine how it went yes, but I still believe your father was far more composed on a day to day basis than you have been thus far.”

Garrett let out a whine, melodramatically flopping back into his boat and rocking it as he did so.  “Fine...  That’s fine.  I’ll just...  Sit here.  And reflect.”

“You mean sulk.”

“Fine!  Sulk!  I’m sulking!  Just let me wallow in my own self-pity a moment would you?”

“If you wallow for too long in that position, you are likely to get one of those sunburns that you pale humans seem so inclined to.”

“Pale?!”  Garrett shot up, yanking back his shirt collar as he scrambled and earning a laugh from Fenris.  “I am _not_ pale!  Look at this!  This is a genuine farmer’s tan, earned from doing genuine farmer things!”

“ _Farmer things_?”

“Farmer things!”

“That doesn’t mean that you are not pale for your kind, Garrett.”

“I’m not pale though!  You met my mother!  She’s pale, not me!”

“It was dark when I met your mother, Garrett.”

“She should still have been much lighter than I am.”  Garrett argued, certain.

Fenris scoffed, far more amused than he would care to admit.  “Garrett, that was years ago.”

“My mother is white as a ghost though!  Seriously, how can you think I’m pale like her???”

“I never said you were as pale as her.”

“So you admit that I’m not pale!”

“I wha—?  I never said that!”

“No takebacks!”

“Why does this matter so much to you?!”

“It doesn’t, but getting your goat is a hell of a lot of fun!”  Garrett asserted, beaming as he sat up in his seat and snickered good naturedly.

Fenris stared blankly at him.  “My goat?  I don’t own a goat.  They’re land dwelling creatures, aren’t they?”

“Um...  Fenris?”

“What does a goat have to do with anything?”  He seemed to be growing considerably more confused. 

Garrett couldn’t hold back his laughter this time, letting out a snort in the face of a confused mer and falling back into his seat laughing as Fenris continued to demand an explanation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was kind of like a filler chapter? Kind of? (I'm so bad at filler chapters, I apologize in advance.)  
> Essentially, this chapter and the next one are going to mostly be Garrett and Fenris getting to know each other better, but after that we're going to get into more serious issues within the context of this story (nothing too dark though, I hope at least, so don't worry).
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also, in case you can't tell, Fenris not understanding what are to most of us common sayings and the like is probably going to be a recurring element from time to time. If you're wondering what he looks like in these moments, think about any time in _Dragon Age: Origins_ that you (the Warden) have to explain something to Sten. It's probably quite comical actually...


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm very convinced that every time one of you comments on this story it somehow jump starts me into writing the next tidbit _right that moment_ , so I really just want to take the time to thank you readers (all of you, not just commentors, because wow you're all so so incredible ok?) for taking the time to respond and leave kudos and bookmark and just do what you all do ok? Ok! 
> 
> You all rock and I hope that you have an amazing week. :)

Fenris did not always surface when Garrett went fishing initially.

Sometimes he could go several sessions without him so much as poking his head out of the water or surfacing to so much as acknowledge the young Hawke’s presence.  Eventually though, after a week or so of fishing (when it became painfully obvious that Garrett was not leaving any time soon), Fenris surfacing to chat with Garrett started to become a regular occurrence.

At first it was short, simple, brief conversations.  The stuff of basic conversations when people are getting to know one another.  Fenris asked about Leandra and Hawke’s siblings, about what kind of people they were and how they were doing.  Hawke asked about where Fenris was from and how he had learned to talk to humans.

“That’s not something that’s common is it?  Or do mer people all speak our language?”

“It is highly unorthodox.”  Fenris confirmed for him one day, early in their relationship.  “I only speak the common tongue because of two boys I met in my youth.  They were willing to teach, and I was willing to try.”

“You...  Spoke with them?”

“You were not under the impression that you and your father were the only humans I have ever interacted with were you?”

“Well, no, but...  I mean, you spoke to them?  _Spoke?_   Using words and everything?”

“Ah, you are surprised that I spoke with them but not your father.”

“Well, yeah I guess.  I mean, obviously you're speaking to me, but that’s honestly not a surprise.  Not when my charisma and good hair are taken into account.  Not to mention my beard.”

“Do not forget your modesty.  How ever could I resist?”

“Humility is my middle name.”

“I’d like to point out, your father also had a beard.  Not too much unlike your own.”

“Yes, but my beard is new and improved.”

Fenris laughed. 

Garrett reveled in the sound of that laugh.

*             *             *

“Do you want any?”  Garrett asked one day, offering up a basket full of apples to Fenris.  “We may have lost stock, but we still have plenty of apples.  Too many in fact, Mother insisted I take these to eat while I fish lest they spoil.”

Sweet things.  Juicy things.  Delicious things.  Leto’s favorite.

Red and shiny.  Ripe and crisp. 

Dorian and Felix used to bring them to him in the summer and he would eat them as they all cooled down.  Dorian and Felix preferred watermelon and Bull preferred the pineapples native to his homeland so he often received a bushel of apples to consume all on his own.

Ripe, juicy, tasty, crisp, sweet apples.

His mouth watered despite himself and he swallowed. 

It had been _years_.

Then another memory.

Jowan, Danarius, and Hadriana bringing him sweets and goods.  Winning him over with their saccharine treats and gifts.  Hardly ever fruit when he reflected on it.  No.  They favored candies and brought them to Leto to fool him.  To trick him into trusting them.

Jowan had brought him a candied apple once, the only time he had ever had one.

Gooey, caramelized, soft, warm, crisp, and sweet.

“No, thank you.”  He had sworn he would never eat food offered by humans again.  Not after what had happened.  “I do appreciate it though.”

Seemingly unperturbed, Garrett shrugged.  “They’ll be in the back of the boat if you change your mind.  I’ll be bringing them out here until we run out.  Hopefully I won’t get sick of them so they don’t go to waste.”

Leto had never grown tired of apples.

*             *             *

“You said you spoke to other humans before?”

“I did.”

“Were they your friends?”

“The first few were.”

“What about the ones who followed?”

“We will not speak of them.”

The floated in silence a long while that day.

*             *             *

“So, I’ve noticed you have an accent.”

Fenris blinked, raising a brow as he gazed at Garrett.  “And?”

“Annnnd it’s not like any I can place.”  Garrett raised a hand and started to list off places, counting on his fingers as he went.  “Definitely not Ferelden.  Not Antivan, or Orlesian, or any kind of Marcher dialect, or any kind of any dialect I’ve heard before if I’m honest.”

“The word you’re looking for is probably Tevene.”  Fenris supplied helpfully, if not a bit reluctantly.  “I was born off the coast of Minrathous.  It is where the children who taught me hailed from.”

“Tevene?  As in the Tevinter Emperium?”

“Yes.”  Fenris stated, curt and eager to get away from the topic.

Garrett seemed to sense this and shifted the topic in more light hearted direction.  “Know any good swears in Arcanum?”

Fenris smirked.  “ _Festis bei umo canavarum_ , Garrett.”

“Why, Fenris, we hardly know each other.  No need to sweet talk me.  I just asked if you knew any decent swears.”

“I thought you didn’t speak Arcanum, how did you know what I was doing?”  Fenris asked, playing coy rather well.  Garrett flushed and fumbled with the rod in his hands. 

“Wait a second, what?”

“Don’t play coy.  You heard what I said, and the way I see it, any man who handles a rod as well as you must have _other_ talents as well.”

“ _OH MAKER!_ ”  He dropped the fishing rod entirely in favor of covering his face, which felt red hot.

Fenris couldn’t help but let out a roaring laugh at the embarrassment spreading across Garrett’s face.

He’d clear up the confusion later.

*             *             *

“You’ve been spending a lot of time at sea lately, Hawke.”  Aveline acknowledged late one evening at Dane’s Refuge as they sat at the bar.  “Staying out of trouble for once?”

“Why Aveline, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you miss my frequent trips to the Guard.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while.  Nobody really has.  Figured I ought to check in on you.”

“And you invited me out to a bar to do it!  You’re the best Aveline!  How about this:  I promise to deface some sort of public property every once in a while so we can at least have a quick chat, is that better?”

“That’s not funny Hawke.”

“I find it hilarious personally.”  Isabela laughed as she brought over their pints.  She grabbed herself a mug and leaned over the bar, evidently intent on hanging out with them for a little while.

“Drinking on the job?”  The guardswoman inquired distastefully.  Garrett guffawed.

“Dane doesn’t care.”  She replied with a shrug.  “As long as I keep up with the customers he doesn’t seem to mind.  Doesn’t charge me much either.  Perks of working in a tavern.”

“ _Charming._ ”  Aveline said, rolling her eyes.  Isabela ignored her.

“I’m not going to lie, I envy you a little bit right now, sweet thing.”  She halted just long enough to take a good drink from her mug before continuing.  “It may not be a _ship_ , but you still get to go out to sea each day.  Were it that we were all so lucky...”  She sighed longingly.

“You’re almost through with working off your debt aren’t you?  You’ll be sea bound before you know it, I’m sure.”  Garrett assured her.  “ “Captain Isabela of the Siren’s Call,” that’s your dream isn’t it?”

“Becoming more of a reality as of late, I’m happy to report.  Dane is trying to help me sort through the proper channels for commissioning one.  By the end of the year, my time here will be up and the Siren’s Call will officially be on her way to being a dream come true.”

“That must be expensive.  Where do you expect to get the funding?”

“Every man has his price lady manhands.  Sometimes you just need to...  _Flaunt_ your better features.  Making them cry out in bed helps too.  They like that.  I’ve already placed a downpayment.”

“Ugh...”

Garrett laughed, taking Isabela’s raunchy humor (that’s what he’s going to call it at least) much better than his redheaded friend.  “I’ll be sure to buy you a big hat, just for the occasion!”

“Ohhhh that sounds lovely.  I do miss the sea though...  Hawke, maybe you wouldn’t mind having a first mate on one of your fishing trips?  You can be first mate any time you step on the Siren’s Call when I have her up and running.”

“I have the sinking suspicion that if Hawke so much as let you set foot in that boat you would make it your own personal mission to defile it, along with him.”

“You know me all too well.”

Garrett was grateful for the ensuing argument for once, largely because it distracted Isabela from the question she had presented.  It would have been hard to say no to her, but much harder to explain Fenris to her if they encountered him...

*             *             *

Fenris chuckled as Garrett recollected the previous night’s events aloud.

“Your friends sound like very interesting people, Garrett.”

“They’re colorful for sure.  They make life interesting.”  He laughed in agreement.

“Do you miss them?  I know that fishing is taking up a lot of your time lately.  You must not get to see them as often as you wish.”

“I get to hang out with you while I’m out here, so honestly I haven’t really had all that much time to linger on that.” 

“Ah.  Yes, well...  Do not feel obligated to—”

“Obligated to nothing Fenris.  I enjoy listening to you talk.”

“...  You speak your mind.  I’ll give you that.”

“You know, I’ve always felt that when someone speaks their mind it’s a pretty good way to ensure sincerity.”  Garrett chuckled, shifting the rod from his left to right hand as he stretched.  “So I’m glad that you think so.”

“I try to speak my mind often, too.”

“So I’ve noticed.  I really appreciate it.”

“...  Garrett?”

“Yes Fenris?”

“I...  Nevermind.”

Garrett tilted his head, considerate, giving Fenris a chance to speak his mind.  When he said nothing, Garrett simply shrugged and reached for one of the apple in the back of the boat and took a large bite out of it.  “Suit yourself.”

 _‘… I enjoy listening to you talk as well.’_   Fenris confessed, silently in the sanctity of his own head. 

He floated in silence a moment, watching as the man ate the apple down to its core and discarded it in a small rucksack the mer knew Garrett kept to store waste while in the water.  They settled into silence, Garrett reclining in his seat and adjusting his hat to more efficiently shield him from the sun’s rays.

Fenris slowly, cautiously, made his way to the back of the boat and gingerly reached into the basket there, picking a plump and ripe red fruit from it.  As he bit into the apple the crunching sound caused Garrett’s head to whip around and a smile to split widely across the humans face as he watched Fenris lick along his webbed fingers to catch any of the heavenly juice trying to escape his mouth after each bite.

It tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may just be me, but I always feel like my chapters with the dialogue jumps seem either abrupt or rushed. The more I tried to play with this one though the more it seemed to try and get away from me, so I eventually decided to cut it here so I could move on to the more "plot relevant" chapters. (If that makes any sense. It probably doesn't. X'D) There just wasn't a good way to break from these into the next tidbit without it being awkward, but I hope it doesn't flow as awkwardly as I felt it was getting.
> 
> Regardless, I still really enjoyed writing it and am proud of it despite its flaws. Hopefully you can see the walls between Fenris and Garrett thinning a considerable bit. I'm really eager to get them to the point that they're familiar and comfortable with one another in case you can't tell. XD
> 
> There's a consecutive update coming in mere moments so please stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed, as always! :D


	14. Chapter 14

To say that Garrett’s fishing had improved was quite the understatement.

Under Fenris’s tutelage, his fishing ability had flourished.  He bringing in pounds of fish each day, his bag becoming heavier and heavier with each subsequent trip.  Serah Jenkins had even complimented him, saying he was impressed that after such an ordeal Garrett had the gall to go out to sea at all.  The storm and its tsunami had shaken the Jenkins family pretty considerably, with the elder Jenkins retiring his fishing rod and the younger one deciding to take up a career in Lothering’s (notably small) guard.

In Garrett’s mind, it had worked out pretty well all things considered.

He was getting to know Fenris, he was hauling in tons of fish each day (more than compensating for the lost stock now that Serah Jenkins wasn’t bringing them to the marketplace too), his family was eating well, and Fenris wasn’t at risk of being seen by anyone aside from him.

Things were going well for Fenris too, a fact which disconcerted him.

Every time something seemed to be going well for him in the past, it had always managed to blow up in his face and he was sure that if he stuck around long enough that this would be no different. 

Regardless of his fears though, he found himself sticking around. 

The voice in the back of his head echoed warnings of Danarius and Hadriana, of the Tevinter ship’s sudden appearance when he had lingered too long in the past, but he ignored it.  He hadn’t spoken to anyone in years and whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not ( _not_ ), he relished the time he got to spend with Garrett by the beach.

Like his father before him, Garrett did not push him.  He was patient, kind, and caring.  Awkwardness aside, Fenris was very much enjoying the man’s presence in his life and did not want to stifle it.  He was still wary of men, but in his mind he appeared to be forming a list of the few humans he would trust.  Incidentally, of the five people on his list, four were dead and two (including the one still alive) shared the same surname— _Hawke._

So, he continued his routine.  He met Garrett whenever he rowed out and helped him arrange his traps and locate the best spot in accordance to what he knew about the area, the weather, and the fish.  He carried on conversations (longer and longer ones as the days passed) with the man, ate apples, and eventually even became comfortable enough with him to rest his head and forearms on the edge of the boat as they chatted.

They hadn’t touched yet though and Fenris was sure that they never would.

That was one line he was not ready to cross.  One he could not cross.  Not with when he would still wake at night, phantom fingers that had belonged to his abusers still tangible on his skin, the lyrium singing its protests as it glowed and his mind racing.

No.

What they had would be more than enough.  It was more than Fenris ever thought that he would be ready to have in a relationship regardless and he was more than content to let this pleasant surprise remain as it was.

One day, though, Fenris’s fears of something growing wrong proved valid, though thankfully not in the form of cloth clad, sharp tongued, monstrous magisters from Tevinter.  No, this was a familiar threat.  One that Leto had encountered in his youth from time to time in fact.  A threat he had encountered several times as he ran in fact.

A shark.

This one, however, was considerably larger than those he and his clan in his youth had dealt with before.

It was huge, and its big, wide, horrifying jaws were tearing Garrett’s overnight fishing traps to hell.

Fenris hesitated a moment when he processed what was happening.  The rational part of his mind told him that Garrett could buy new traps, that he should not charge in and challenge such a behemoth of a creature over such a simple thing, but the less rational part of his brain was outraged by the shark’s audacity and did not think that Garrett should have to replace all of his equipment when he could easily stop it by shoving his hand into its skull and crushing its brain.

So he charged.

*             *             *

The moment that Garrett arrived on the beach, he knew that something was wrong.

He didn’t know what per say, but he could feel it in his bones.

As he pushed off the dock and into the water the sickening feeling intensified.

Then he saw it.

Blood.

Red, bright masses of blood swirling in the water near where he and Fenris had gone to set his traps the day prior.

Blood.  Blood everywhere.

Then, amongst the blood, a massive shark with a hole ripped clean through its head.

More pressingly though, a humanoid body with a tail floating limply alongside it, occasionally beating against it as the waves battered them both unforgivingly.

“FENRIS!”

Foregoing rowing, Garrett propelled his boat forward with a pulse of magic and started to grab at Fenris’s body, pulling him up and into the boat with a bit of Force Magic to assist him (and thanking the Maker that his father insisted that he learn at least some simple spells from that school) and gathering him up in his arms as best as he could to get a better look at him.

He was pale, and unresponsive.  That was probably the most concerning thing. 

No matter how much Garrett shook him or called his name he just laid there, unresponsive and limp.  Almost like he was—

No.  No.  No no no no.

Not like he was dead.

Fenris wasn’t dead.

He couldn’t be dead.

Garrett’s understanding of healing magic was novice at best, so when he saw the massive, bloody wound located on Fenris’s tail coupled with his nonresponsive symptoms he knew that he was in over his head.  The best that he could do would be to stop the bleeding and mind the lesser wounds on the mer’s body, but the rest was beyond his expertise.

He debated momentarily, but he knew he had made his decision the moment he thought it. 

Fenris could hate him all he wanted to for this later, when he was moving, awake, and _alive_.

*             *             *

Anders didn’t know what quite to expect when Garrett showed up at his clinic midday, asking for a private examination and his confidentiality.

At best, he thought that maybe he and Isabela had gone for a roll in the hay and something wasn’t quite right _down there_ anymore.  At worst, he thought that maybe, just maybe, something Garrett had been “experimenting” with might have gotten stuck.

That was typically why people requested his private room.  He always kept it locked so that nobody could walk in on them.  When it was requested, it was typically for sensitive matters with sexual undertones, so that’s what he figured this would be.

When Garrett came back into his clinic totting a big, bloody tarp with a large fish tail flopping out as soon as they entered the backroom, Anders almost reminded him that he was a _people’s_ doctor and not qualified to treat animals properly.

Then the tarp fell away entirely.

Anders had seen many things in his life.  Some more pleasant than others.  But _this…_

This he had never seen before.

That being said, his opening statement probably could have been more sensitive.

Given the context of the room though, it was not too far out of the realm of possibilities...

“Hawke, Maker above, please tell me you haven’t been fucking a fish.”

*             *             *

After Garrett very nearly imploded, becoming a spluttering mess of rage and fear and overall panic, Anders schooled his mind and features into the professional mode of doctor.  He had Garrett carry his tub (more a large basin if he was honest, but that wasn’t important) into the room and swiftly alternate between ice and heat magic to fill it with water as he set about clotting the remaining bleeding and healing the tissue.

After the worst was through, Anders took a bucket and filled it with some of the water, throwing it over Fenris’s body to rinse the blood off and allow it to gather and slither en mass towards the drain in the floor before having Garrett help him lift and eventually lower the mer into the tub.

It didn’t take long after they placed him in for him to start coming around. 

Anders had left the room to gather some food (he hoped the being liked fish) from his supplies leaving Garrett alone with him.  Then the screaming started.

He raced back into the room after casting a quick muffling spell over the back room and burst in to find the mer in tears, clawing at Garrett, and repeating over and over like a mantra a series of pleas (“No more!”  “I’ll be good!”  “Please stop!”  “Don’t hurt me!”  “I want to go home!”) as Garrett attempted to shush him despite the injuries he was sustaining.

“Fenris!  It’s me!”

“GET OFF GET OFF _GET OFF GET OFF!!  STOP IT!”_

“Fenris—!”  

 _“Ego pol bonum!  Dimitte me!  Me dolet!  Sic laedit!  Dimitte ire!”_   The mer thrashed, markings aglow as he struggled.  _“Quaeso dominus non!  Danarius me ire!!  HIBERENT!!  NOLI ME TANGERE!!”_

“Fenris it’s me!  It’s Garrett!”

“Step away Hawke.”  Anders cut in over the screaming, two fireballs at the ready in his hands.

Garrett bent further over Fenris, blocking him from Anders.  “No Anders he’ll be fine!  He’s just scared...!”  He trailed off as he felt something foreign seem to reach into his chest cavity and froze in horror.

_“HAWKE!”_

Fenris’s hand was in the man’s chest, without a doubt.  Pure hatred and rage boiled beneath the surface of his eyes as he regarded him, the gaze of man not in his head, not truly there.

“ _Fenris!_ ”  Garrett tried, one last time, his voice tense.  “Fenris _please!”_

To no avail.  Garrett felt the pressure around his heart constrict—

The pressure suddenly subsided and Fenris’s world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel a little bit evil knowing that this is where the weekly update will stop. I really do.  
> I hate when I read these kind of chapters myself, because they torture me nonstop throughout the week... D:
> 
> Maybe I'll post another chapter later tonight. Maybe. Just because I don't particularly enjoy being excessively cruel, especially when you've all been such a wonderful audience thus far! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading this chapter! And let me just say, I'm surprised at the number of hits that this story has received! As well as the number of kudos and bookmarks and well, everything! It's quite humbling and I thank you all very much for how well it seems to have been received! I hope you continue reading the story and enjoy it to the end! 
> 
> Much thanks everyone! \\(^o^)/
> 
> Regarding the "Tevene"/"Arcanum" in this chapter: It's all Google Translate's (likely very broken) take on Latin. I have no real knowledge in regard of Latin, but I feel it works as a sort of psuedo Tevene pretty well. I must apologize in advance to any Latin lovers, but I have to work with what I'm given and was really trying to write this chapter well while it was still in my head. Feel free to voice concerns!
> 
>  **Translation Notes:**  
>  _“Ego pol bonum! Dimitte me! Me dolet! Sic laedit! Dimitte ire!”_ \- "I'll be good! Let me go! I'm sorry! It hurts! Let go!"  
>  _“Quaeso dominus non! Danarius me ire!! HIBERENT!! NOLI ME TANGERE!!”_ \- "Please master no more! Danarius let me go!! STOP IT!! DON'T TOUCH ME!!"


	15. Chapter 15

When Fenris came to, he was in a dim lit room.

That was what set him into panic again.

He wasn’t outside.

He was someplace else.

Somewhere enclosed.

Dark—

_“This is going to hurt Fenris, but it will hurt far worse if you do not lay still.”_

NO.

He would not return to that place, be it in mind or body.

His breath quickened and he thought he was going to be sick.  He sat up, shifting this way and that as he examined the room looking for a way to escape before taking in the sight before him in his entirety.

Blood on his body.  Bandage on his tail.  Aching all over...

Oh.

He had been hurt.  He remembered now.

He shifted again, this time his slimy wet skin making contact with something fleshy and soft.

 _‘Garrett.’_   His mind so helpfully supplied.

Garrett Hawke was draped over the basin, in much the same manner that Fenris often found himself draped over his boat’s edge as of late, eyes shut and asleep.

Despite everything that this situation implied (taken somewhere without consent, being in an unknown place...) the fact that it now seemed evident that it was Garrett who had moved him comforted him just a tiny bit. 

It didn’t stop rage from flaring inside of him though. 

Fenris snarled to himself and struggled to get upright, intent on giving Garrett a piece of his mind.  When he finally shifted to sit up properly he reached over to grasp at the human’s shoulder to shake him awake, red blurring his vision, when he suddenly the red he saw cleared and he stopped dead in his tracks.  

He looked at his extended hand and all at once what had happened came rushing back to him and the hand instead went to his mouth as he tried his best not to retch.

His hand.

His hand had been around Garrett’s heart.

He had almost crushed it in his hands and killed him.

He wouldn’t have even thought twice about it in the moment.

Any anger that had been bubbling under the surface dissipated in an instant as he processed what he had done and fear took root in its place. 

_He had almost killed Garrett Hawke._

Perhaps even more concerning:  Garrett had almost _let_ him kill him.

Somehow, that pissed him off more than anything else.

He couldn’t really find it in his heart to bring his ire down on the man, though.  Not in that moment at least.  Not when he looked back over at him a second time and saw scruffy, messy hair atop his head, dark circles under his eyes, and a crust of drool running out of the man’s mouth. 

No, it felt wrong to be angry at him for what had happened.  The circumstances were too strange.  The more he played over the facts in his head the worse it felt to try and stay angry with him. 

He was warm, the bleeding had stopped, he was bandaged, he appeared to be safe, and he was with Garrett.  Despite all he felt, anger did not seem an appropriate response in the moment.

 _‘I will yell at him later...’_   Fenris eventually decided, taking several deep breaths as he calmed himself down.  _‘Once I am out of here and back in the water.’_

So instead, he watched him.

He waited for him to wake up, watching his shoulders rise and fall with the heaving of his chest and tucked some of the more disgruntled locks of hair back from his face when his bangs fell in the way, until Garrett, bleary-eyed and sleepy Garrett, finally woke up.

“... Fenris?”  He inquired, voice still deepened and a bit raspy from sleep.  Fenris froze.

“... Garrett.”  The mer stated simply as he finished awkwardly tucking a dark lock back from the man’s face, having been caught in the act.

Garrett shifted from where he leaned to sit upright properly and meet Fenris's gaze.  “Are...  Are you alright now?”

“I...”  He could say yes.  He could lie and say that he was fine or that he didn’t know what the man was talking about, but instead—  “I don’t know.”

Garrett smiled meekly at him, the sleep in his eyes still evident despite it all.  “Well, that’s a start, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Better than a “no” for sure.  I was so afraid that it would be a “no” I don’t think you—”  He coughed abruptly, ending that train of thought.  “Anyways, I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“Where am I?”

“Ah.”  Garrett grimaced, apparently dreading that line of questioning.  “Please don’t be angry...  You’re at the healer’s, but before you freak out he is a very good friend of mine!  I already swore him to secrecy and he’s promised not to breathe a word of this to anyone.” 

“Could you not have brought your friend to the beach instead?”  Fenris argued, a bit of the rage he had suppressed earlier leaking out as he glared.

Garrett cringed and shrunk back, fidgeting.  “But you—you were bleeding...  The blood was everywhere and I...  I couldn’t...  I couldn’t just leave you there like that...  I was so...  You...  I...”  He trailed off.

 _‘...I scared him.’_   Fenris realized and the flare of rage fizzled as surprise flooded him.  A moment or two passed in silence before he could think of anything to say in response.  “... It was a shark.”  Fenris eventually settled on, like it was such a simple thing.

“... _“It was a shark.”_ ”  Garrett repeated.  “A _fucking_ shark...  You...  You _bloody_ fool...  I was so worried...!  I...  What on earth were you doing fighting a shark?”

“It...  Was going after your traps.  I...  I did not want it to inflict excess damage when I was there and capable of handling it.”

“Fenris.”

“Garrett?”

“I need you to look me in the eye.”  Fenris swallowed, but readily complied.  Upon meeting the man’s gaze he was frozen, glued to the spot by the concern and sternness in Garrett’s eyes.  “Do not ever, _ever_ put yourself at risk like that again.  Not for me and especially not for fishing equipment.  Please.  Promise me ok?  You’re far too important to go charging after some shark over some cheap traps alright?  Promise me.  Promise me you _will never do this again_ , ok?  _Please._ ”

If it was Garrett begging him, then Fenris found he could not deny him.  He felt guilty even, for making the man worry so much. 

He chewed his lip as he considered was happening and frowned.  This was not what he had expected...

Eventually, the mer nodded his head in compliance to the plea.  “I promise.”

“Good.”  Garrett let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.  “Good...  Thank the Maker.”  He paused a moment before looking back up at Fenris, considerate.  “May I...?”

“... May you...?”

“May I touch you for a second?”

Fenris stiffened at the request, hesitant, but then he went over what he knew in his head to be true. 

This was Garrett Hawke.  The son of Malcolm and Leandra Hawke. 

None of the Hawkes had ever hurt him. 

Garrett had never hurt him. 

Garrett had lifted him from the water and carried him away for help instead of risking him bleeding out in the water. 

Garrett brought him apples to be share and paddleballs that were painted red because that was what he had requested. 

Garrett was not like other people.  He rationalized.  Garrett would not hurt him.

So, in the end, Fenris nodded his assent and it was not but mere moments later that he was swept up into a tight hug by the larger man. 

It had been years, countless years, since he had been held close to anyone, and though he had been reluctant at first Fenris could not in that moment deny how much he had missed it.

He had not been held close to anyone who cared about him since before he had been Fenris and even when he was Leto he had only ever been embraced by his mother, never by his friends, so this was a new experience all on its own. 

He didn’t exactly know how to react, so he settled for leaning in and resting his head on Garrett’s chest.  It was evidently an appropriate response because the man readjusted to hold him closer and more effectively.  Surprisingly, Fenris found it quite therapeutic.  He felt safe...

“ _Oh for the love of—_ Hawke, please don’t make me ask again.”

Fenris stiffened immediately at the sound of the newcomer’s voice and Garrett sighed, pulling back but leaving a hand to linger on the mer’s shoulder as what could only be interpreted as a small comfort.

“For the last time Anders, _no_ , it’s not like that.”

“It’s this room.  I’m telling you.  It’s not you, it’s the things I’ve seen back here.  Makes you question things...”  He cast his gaze from Garrett to Fenris.  “Sorry if you feel any pain on the back of your head, but I kind of had to knock you out when you shoved your hand into my friend’s chest.  You know, as a last resort.  Still, it beats a fireball to the arse, wouldn’t you agree?”

“ _Anders..._ ”

“That’s beside the point, though.”  Anders concluded swiftly upon seeing the look on Garrett’s face, coughing as though trying to dismiss his previous statement.  “Anyways, more to the point.  Do you feel any pain anywhere?  Any concerning symptoms I need to try and remedy?”

Fenris thought on it a moment.  “...  My tail is sore.”

“To be expected.  You had a really nasty bite when Hawke brought you in, but I patched it up and you should be fine within the next week or so.  Good as new even!”  The bright smile on the blonde doctor’s head irritated Fenris for reasons unknown, but he choose to disregard the feelings in light of the fact that man had evidently just saved his life.  “I can give you something for the pain but honestly, and I know this is probably going to seem impossible, you really need to stay as still as possible to not aggravate the wound while it finishes healing.”

“I thought you said you fixed it.”

“I did, but healing can only do so much if you want everything to be set properly.  Your body will have to finish up the final steps so that it heals properly.  I might have been able to fully set and heal everything if your anatomy was more like ours, but you’re the first of your kind for me to have ever treated so I thought it would be best not to take too many chances.”

“Wait, Anders...  Did you say he needs to give his tail a rest?”

“Well, medically speaking...  Yes.”

“ _Great._ ”  Fenris couldn’t help but grumble.  That was an almost impossible order to carry out.  He relied on his tail for just about everything.

“ _Great_ indeed!  I love his enthusiasm Hawke, I can feel it rolling off in waves.”

Fenris glared.

“Moving on—He could stay here, but judging from the angry look on his face I think it’s safe to assume that that really isn’t an option is it?”

“No, you're right."  Garrett conceded as Fenris stared at him, half pleading and half demanding silently to not be left there.  "I'll take him home.”  Anders raised his brows and looked at him curiously.   _"His home!  His home!"_ He clarified hurriedly.  "You know—The ocean!  Charming little place with lots of water and sand and—Well, not so little _but—!"_

"I'm just giving you hard time, Hawke."  Anders chuckled as Garrett continued to fumble and Fenris frowned.  Anders shifted his gaze from the human to the mer.  "Is that agreeable with you?"

“It is."

“Right then—Well, the only thing I can really do is give you some medicine to numb the aching and trust that I can leave him in your hands, Hawke.”  Anders halted, the shifted back suddenly to stare at the man.  “I _can_ trust that leaving him in your hands is the _safe_ thing to do, right Hawke?”

“Of course!”  The man sputtered indignantly.  “Why are you giving me that look?!”

“Just having war flashbacks to when you catsat Ser Pounce-a-Lot...”

“I resent that!  Ser Pounce turned out perfectly well and fine!”  Garrett insisted.

“Yet he never wants to drink milk anymore...  I _wonder_ who could be responsible for that.”

“...  Fenris and I will be going now.”

“ _Right_.  Fenris, if Hawke tries to feed you any spicy and or spoiled milk over the course of your recovery, scream very loudly and I’ll do my best to come to your rescue.”

“It was one time Anders!”

“Once was more than enough Hawke...”  Anders assured him as the two departed the clinic, Fenris hidden by the tarp again as Garrett carried him out.

He let his head rest against the man’s shoulder and slept away most of the trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TRIPLE UPDATE SUNDAY AHOY(?)!!! HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!! :'D)
> 
> So, I really debated how angry I wanted Fenris to be when he woke up, but the more I tried to write any kind of super confrontational/angry scene the less natural it felt to me. Honestly though, I feel like any anger he felt really would be tapered quite a bit by when he realized that he had stuck his hand through Garrett's chest so... Yeah. I don't know. X'D
> 
> It didn't come out exactly like I planned, but I feel relative satisfied with the result(?)!
> 
> Thank you for reading as always! Happy Easter to those of you in a time zone where it's still Sunday, and I look forward to updating next week! :D


	16. Chapter 16

Around the time that they reached the beach, Fenris came to. 

Garrett had set him carefully down on the beach and laid him on the tarp before walking forward.

Fenris propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

“So, I have an idea.  It’s an outlandish idea, but it’s an idea.”

“Does it involve spoiled milk?”

“I knew I’d regret introducing you to Anders, I just didn’t know exactly how soon that day would come.”  Garrett sniffled melodramatically as Fenris rolled his eyes humorously.  “No, no spoiled milk.  Or spicy milk before you ask.”  He paused a moment.  “Have you ever had milk before?”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I’ll remedy that later, but we should probably work through this one problem at a time, right?  Right.  Ok!  So, my outlandish plan.”

Garrett proposed what was for lack of better terms one very large mote.  He would dig out a relatively decent amount of sand and fill it with water from the sea for Fenris to reside in temporarily until his tail fully healed. 

“It isn’t implausible.”

“Except...”

“Except, how do you propose we make a hole that large?  And how will I get food?”

“Well, for one thing, the food thing is a silly question.  I’ll bring you food.  As for the first problem, you can keep a secret right?”

“Probably better than you have kept mine.”

“ _Ouch!”_

“...  Because aside from you who would I tell?”

“Ohhh…  Alright, you’ve got me there.  But,”  He held up a hand with a magelight twinkling just above it.  “I was thinking magic could dig the hole for us, _and_ fill it up for—Fenris?”

The mer had gone pale.  Ghostly pale. 

“Fenris...?  Are you ok??”

“I...”

“Um...”  He followed the mer’s gaze to his hands where the magelight still lingered and froze.  Then, realization apparently made, he immediately doused it.  “I...can, uh, do it by hand?  I’ll do it by hand if that makes you more comfortable.

Fenris shook his head and took a deep breath.  _‘This is Garrett.’_   He told himself as he took another breath and looked to the man. _‘This is Garrett.  This is Garrett.  This is Garrett...’_   “No.  No.  By all means, go on.”

“... Are you sure?”

“Yes, but you’d better give me lots tailroom.”

Garrett grinned as the tense situation seemed to dissipate.  “Aye aye ser!”

*             *             *

In the end, the hole didn’t take all that long to dig and fill with the help of Garrett’s magic.  He created it on an incline, going from shallow to deep from one side to the other so that Fenris could recuperate and rest but still stretch out.  It wasn’t overly spacious or all that glamourous, but Garrett seemed pleased with the result and Fenris would be lying if he said he could complain about such a considerate effort being made on his behalf.

Garrett did leave for a little while, after they finished and Fenris had settled into his temporary home, as night fell just long enough to leave a note at his family home supplying a reason for his absence and in order to grab some much needed supplies.

“Apple a day keeps the doctor away?”  Garrett held the red fruit up for Fenris to see, only relinquishing it when the mer held his hand up high ready to catch it.

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”  He shifted to show Fenris his collection of goodies from home, various breads and non-perishable food products as well as a few changes of clothes for Garrett himself, before dragging his boat over from its usual post over to the hole.

Fenris raised a brow, prompting Garrett to shrug noncommittally.  “I’d sleep on the shallow side, but I’m afraid rolling over in my sleep and drowning.  Better to sleep in the boat, drier that way too.  I’ll keep it tethered so that it doesn't bump you though.”

The mer nodded.  “I appreciate it.”  He paused.  “Garrett...  About what happened—”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...  Thank you.”

Garrett flashed him a smile as bright as the sun and nodded to him. 

They each settled in their own respective places, shifting and readjusting this way and that until they found a system that worked for them before truly settling in for sleep. 

“Goodnight Fenris.”

“Goodnight Garrett.” 

*             *             *

“What...  Is that?”

“This,”  Garrett tilted the creamy white substance towards Fenris so that he might have a better look.  “is milk.”

“That’s milk?”

“Yes.”

“And you...  Drink that willingly?”

“Of course!”  Garrett passed the jug of milk over to Fenris so that he could examine it further.

“It...  Smells unlike anything I have ever smelt before.”

“You mean it smells like milk.”

“I can only assume so.”

“Are you ready to try it?  It’s good, I swear.”  Garrett promised, even as Fenris recoiled slightly at the sight of the milk shifting as he jostled the jug.  “I think you’ll like it.”

“It looks...  Interesting.”

“It’s really good for you.  Anders says it’s supposed to be good for your bones and your teeth.”

“I think that both of mine are fine...”

“Don’t be a baby.  Just, try some of it alright?”

“...”  Fenris abruptly tilted the jug and pressed its edge to his lips, downing the entirety in one fell swoop. 

“Well?”  Garrett asked, watching the mer’s throat bob as he swallowed.  “What did you think?”

“Thankfully, it was neither spicy nor sour.  I see that Anders’s warning was uncalled for.”

“Wait a minute...  Is that why you hesitated?!”

“...  Perhaps.”

“...  Oh ye of little faith...”  Fenris ignored Garrett’s seemingly wounded expression in favor of inquiring when more milk could be brought to him.

*             *             *

“I’m sorry I blindsided you earlier with my mage stuff.”  Garrett stated suddenly and unprompted as he finished checking on one of Fenris’s remaining injuries. 

The mer frowned.  “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, it was pretty obvious that you weren’t okay with it.”

“Garrett—”

“I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you were okay with my father that you wouldn’t have a problem with it.” 

“I have no problem with you being a mage, Garrett.”

“I still blindsided you with it though, and that’s not okay.  I mean, I never really told you I could use it did I?  I just kind of assumed...”

“It is not magic I take issue with, else I would never have befriended your father.  Yes, you surprised me, but that is beside the point.  It is those who abuse it that I have a problem with.”

“Magisters you mean.”  Garrett deduced and Fenris cringed.  “I’ve heard about what they do in Tevinter, I thought that maybe—”

Fenris was quick to cut him off.  “Not all Magisters abuse their power.”  He stated, his thoughts drawn towards those of Dorian and Felix.  “Just as a man can abuse his strength and use it for evil, a mage may use their magic for evil.  Or good, if they so choose.”

“I take it that you haven’t had much experience with the good kind.”  Garrett surmised as he recalled the sickened look on Fenris’s face when he had first used magic in front of him.

A sad smile crossed the mer’s face.  “The few good I have outweigh the evil in one way or another.”

“But not all of it.”

“Not all of it.”

“What—”

“Garrett.  Not today.  Please.”

“Sorry.”  Garrett apologized meekly, cheeks lightly flushed as he realized how much he was prying.  “It’s just...”  _‘I still know so little about you...’_   “Nevermind.  ...What would you like to eat today?”

*             *             *

“No.”

“ _Fenris—_ ”

“NO.”

“Fen, you have to.”

“I said no, Garrett.”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel _fine_.”

“Fenris.”

“I refuse to put any more of that foul substance in my mouth.”

“It can’t be that bad...”

“You take it then.”

“Well, me taking your medicine kind of defeats the point, don’t you think?”

“Not if it depletes our stock of it faster.”

*             *             *

“Good morning sunshine!”  Garrett greeted overenthusiastically as Fenris groaned.

“Garrett, it is too early for this...”

“I think that our friend the sun would disagree with you.  Look he’s so happy to see you, Fen!” 

“ _The sun does not_ feel _things, Garrett_.”  The growled, throwing his arm over his eyes in an effort to obstruct the sun from his field of vision.  Alas, to no avail.

“Fenris if you sleep too much longer then you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“I am more than alright with that.”

“ _Fenris_.”

“ _Garrett_.”

They stared each other down a long moment.

Garrett sighed.  “You leave me no choice...  No more apples until you decide to get up.”

“...  You wouldn’t dare.”

“I think I just did.”

Fenris resignedly propped himself up and sat, glaring at Garrett all the while.  “There?  Are you happy now?”

“Uh-hm!”  The man grinned, nodding enthusiastically as he tossed an apple to the mer.

Fenris did his best to chew loudly and obnoxiously.

To his dismay, Garrett did not seem to care.

*             *             *

“Are you all born with these?”  Garrett asked one day as he started rebinding Fenris’s tail.  The mer had almost entirely recovered, but Garrett had insisted that they continue to treat his tail regardless until he had entirely healed.

Fenris quirked a brow.  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Your markings, do all of you people—”

“No.”

“Really?  Then what about—”

“Garrett.”  The man recoiled at the venom in Fenris’s tone as though he’d been slapped.  “ _Drop it._ ”

“...  I’m sorry.”  The man apologized meekly.  Fenris, for the first time in what felt like forever, felt guilt coarse through him as he regarded the man and frowned.

“No...  I am.  I overreacted.  I...  Maybe one day I will tell you.”

“But not today.  I understand.”  Garrett smiled gently at him and returned to the task at hand.

As he finished binding the mer’s tail, Fenris felt filled with a sense of regret he could not understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's becoming harder and harder for Fenris to not tell Garrett things the closer they grow, but with Fenris it's never so easy as simply changing his mind. No, he has to sit there and agonize internally over it. (Hopefully this time not for three years though. X'D)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update, as usual! :D 
> 
> On a side note, I have a question for you all (my wonderful, _wonderful_ readers): If I were to finish this story (as I tend to write ahead and hoard chapters to put out weekly), would you rather I upload the remaining chapters in one fell swoop or as I have been on the week to week basis you've been dealing with? Honestly, I don't like to make people wait (because I hate when finished stories leave me waiting for them to update *cries*), so I thought I'd see if I had a general consensus in response(??). 
> 
> I'm not saying it'll for sure happen, what with school and the like, but I was wondering because lately I've been ripping out these chapters when I get to sit down and write them. (I really hope I didn't just jinx that... >.>' )
> 
> (Also, super excited because I have a couple more FenHawke fics and a Malcolm Hawke centric fic planned out in my head and I'm really excited about everything now!! Summer needs to come faster so I can focus on all of them! XD)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave input on the last chapter about how I should space chapters if I finish this early!! I'm taking all suggestions into consideration and will let you all know what I will do if I finish the story early! :)

“Honestly, Garrett!”

“It’s good to see you too Carver.”

“Don’t give me that!  Where have you been?!”

“I thought I made it very clear in the note I left.”

“Garr, what’s happening?”  Bethany cut in, worry coloring her tone.  “You’re spending all of your time down at the beach.  We’re worried.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about, Beth.  I promise.  If there was something for you to worry about I would tell you, I promise.”

“Well.  Then you won’t mind if we ask what you’ve been _doing_ at the beach, will you?”

“Fishing, Carver.  What else—”

“Cut the crap, brother!”  Carver snapped.  Garrett cringed.  “We all know that there’s more to it, you’re just not telling us!”

“I—”

“That’s quite enough.”  Another, far sterner, voice cut in.  Silver eyes gleamed as Leandra Hawke regarded her children.  “I will not have you all fighting with one another mere moments after one of you walks through the door!"

“But Mother!”

“Hush!  I know it’s frustrating, but your brother is a grown man.  If he says not to worry about it then let him be.  Now go wash up for dinner.”

Both twins, each visibly deflated, walked off.  Murmuring to each other all the while.

“I’m surprised that you took my side.”  Garrett admitted, perplexed.  “I was sure that you—”

“Say hello to Fenris for me the next time you go to the beach.”

Garrett froze.

“W-W-What?!  Wha-What are you—”

“Son, the next time you feel the need to go somewhere without having one of us check up on you, I suggest you not leave such a cryptic message.”

“It wasn’t _cryptic_...!”

“It was plenty cryptic.  Enough so that I decided I should head down the beach myself and check up on you.  Imagine my surprise when I got down there!”

“Mother, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know what to say to you.”

“I’m not worried about that right now.  I think I understand.  More to the point, how is he?  Well, I hope.”

“He’s...  Fenris.”  Garrett eventually settled on.  “But more talkative than Father made him out to be.”

Leandra chuckled.  “That doesn’t necessarily mean much.  I only met the man once and he was quiet as a mouse, hardly spoke to either of us...  Beautiful voice though.  Handsome too.”

 _“Mother!”_   Garrett sputtered, indignant.

“ “Fishing” my son says.  “Fishing.”  ”  She shook her head and rolled her eyes.  “For what exactly?”

 _“I enjoy his company!”_  Garrett asserted, embarrassed.  Then realizing what he had said he reddened further and his eyes threatened to bulge out of his head as he panicked.  “In my boat!  While I fish!  Nothing weird!  Just—Fishing with a friend!”

Leandra guffawed.  “Oh sweetie, I know what you meant.  I’m your mother, not that girl Isabela from Dane’s.”  She chided him as a gently as possible.  Garrett’s face was still burning red, it was even worse after she leaned in to kiss his cheek under the guise of apologizing.  “I was just having a little fun with you.”

“Oh...”

“Though, I must admit that the way you two were looking at each other...”

“Mother...?”  Garrett inquired hesitantly.  “What are you saying...?”

“Oh, nothing nothing!”  Leandra assured him, waving her hand dismissively all the while. 

“Mother.”

“Don’t you “Mother” me Garrett Hawke."  Her hands went to her hips and he felt filled with dread.  "You still snuck around behind my back, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”  Her son cringed at that.  “In light of the circumstances though, I’m willing to let you off the hook.”

“Circumstances?”

“I’m sure that you’ve noticed, but your father was always convinced that Fenris was lonely.  He never saw anyone, like him or otherwise, accompanying him and no matter what mundane thing he prattled on about Fenris always listened relatively enthusiastically.”

Garrett frowned.  “Yeah...  I’ve noticed.”

No matter how dull the conversation might be or how uneventful the day was, Fenris always seemed to be pleased that Garrett visited regardless.  He hardly ever complained, except for when he was trying to tease the man, and he had started to linger longer and longer.  Almost like he was trying to prolong Garrett’s stays with him.

“Be good to him, Garrett.  He was a good friend to your father and he helped us in a way I never could have even imagined...  If you’re really going out there to spend time with him I cannot fault you for it.”

“Thanks.”  A pause.  “Would you mind helping me keep Beth and Carver off of my back?  I don’t know if Fenris is up for meeting anyone else right now...  It took me forever just to get this far.”

Leandra smiled and nodded.  “Of course.”

*             *             *

“My mother asked after you the other day.”

Fenris froze.

“...  Excuse me?”

Garrett shifted in the sand, sitting where the base of the hole they had filled in the other day used to reside with Fenris at his side as the waves broke over a pair of legs and a tail.

“She came down to check on me while you were healing.  I didn’t realize it, but she saw us.”

“...  What did she say?”

“To say hello to you for her mostly.  She asked how you were doing too.  Oh, and,”  Garrett reached over into the basket that he had carried with him that day and withdrew a bundle.  Unwrapping the mound revealed a flaky, golden brown crust in a pie pan.  “When she found out that you liked apples so much she insisted that I bring you one of her world famous apple pies.”  He explained, withdrawing utensils from the basket again to slice and distribute said pie.  He then tilted his head as though considering something.  “Or, rather, infamous apple pies, I suppose.  I’m pretty sure Lothering is the only place that knows of their glory.”

Fenris’s stomach growled as he was presented with a piece, picking it up with his hands rather than wait for anything else and taking a bite.  “...  It’s very good.”

“Right?”  Garrett grinned, taking a cue from Fenris and deciding hold his own slice in his hand as well. 

“...  Your mother is alright with you visiting me then?”

“More than alright actually.”  Garrett managed through a mouthful of pie.  “She encouraged it.  And even if she hadn’t been okay with it, I would have visited you anyways.  You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

“Right...”  He seemed unsure of something, Garrett noticed. 

That response would not suffice.  Garrett swallowed his current mouthful and turned to face Fenris.  “Hey.  Look at me would you?”

Fenris blinked, then turned his head to look at him.  “Yes, Garrett?”

“I’m not going to leave you, alright?”

The mer’s eyes narrowed.  “What are you—”

“Just listen a second, ok?  I’m not.  If you ever get tired of hanging out with me you’re obviously free to leave whenever or to just ignore me, but I like visiting you.  I like you, Fenris.  Never doubt that.”  Fenris just stared at him, awestruck, as Garrett stared back resolutely.  Then, apparently realizing the intense shift in the conversation’s tone, the man stammered.  “Th-That’s all, alright?  I mean wow that was—Anyways!  Wow this pie is good isn’t it?!  Wow it’s good!  So good!  Yum!  Can’t get enough of this...!”  Garrett continued to ramble on and on but Fenris was still stuck on one thing.

_“I like you, Fenris.”_

Fenris found himself desperately wanting to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter and I'm a bit ahead, so double upload this week! Yay!


	18. Chapter 18

“What do you think the first fisherman was thinking when they started fishing?”

“Pardon?”

“Like, really think about it.”  Garrett continued, flicking his rod a bit as he bobbed up and down in the boat with the rocking of the waves.  “What was he, or she, thinking at first?  Who decided tying a string to a stick and throwing it into the water was a good idea??”

“I can’t be sure, but I think that whoever they were you should be grateful for their logic.  Unorthodox or not.”

*             *             *

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

Fenris grunted in response.

“ _Oooooh_ , the really wrong side of the bed apparently.  What happened?”

“I did not sleep last night.  The ocean was too loud.”

“I’m sure the ocean is very sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me Serah Grumpy Gills.  It’s not my fault the ocean was lively last night...”

_“Garrett.”_   A warning. 

“Wow, does someone need a hug?”

_“GARRETT!”_   Fenris snarled.

“I’m giving you a hug.  You’ve been warned.”

“Garrett I swear to— _HUUUUUUH!_ ”

“SORRY!  I didn’t mean to knock the breath out of you!  But I knew if you got into the water then I would never be able to catch you.”

_“Garrett Hawke so help me—”_

“Oh shit, you’re pissed.”

“ _Vishante kaffas!_ What are you—?!”  Fenris cut off as he was forced to let out a long series of rumbling laughter.  “What are you—HA—doing—HAHA!!!”

“I had to wipe the frown off somehow!”  Garrett beamed as he continued to tickle Fenris, laughing all the while.

Soon, Fenris’s anger dissolved into mirth as Garrett’s hands digging into his sides rendered him speechless and made him laugh so hard it hurt.  He remained pinned under the man, helpless and drunk on his own laughter before finally managing to flip the man over with his tail and pin him down. 

Garrett laughed as Fenris smirked. 

_‘Two can play at this game!’_   Fenris thought triumphantly as Garrett squirmed underneath him, playing his role of captive effectively as he tried his best to get away.  Fenris chuckled and lifted his hands, intent on making Garrett laugh at least as hard as he had made Fenris.

A cry of pain.

Fenris jerked to a halt as he looked down.

There was blood on his hands.

He rolled off of Hawke immediately, shuffled away frantically.

_There was blood on his hands._

They said nothing as they sat there in the moments after.  Garrett dabbing at his wounds with his shirt and Fenris staring at his bloody talons.  Staring at the red running down his hands and his arms. 

He curled in on himself and shook his head.  “...  I’m so sorry...”

“It wasn’t your fault, Fen. 

“I _hurt_ you, Garrett...”

“It wasn’t your fault.  I know you didn’t mean to.”  Bleeding now under control, he shifted closer to Fenris and rested his head on the mer’s shoulder.  He took both Fenris’s hands in one and lowered them in the water, allowed the ebb and flow of the water to wash away the blood, and used the other to rub circles soothingly into the mer’s back.  “I know you were just trying to play back...  It wasn’t your fault.”

So why did it feel like it was?

*             *             *

“Merrill has decided to stay in Lothering.”  Garrett announced one day, enthusiastically.

“Oh?  That’s the girl that your brother fancies, is it not?”

“The very same!  He still hasn’t said anything to her yet, the coward, but you should have seen the way his face lit up when she told him.  It was adorable.  Also the perfect opportunity, incidentally, for him to have asked her out.  Did he though?  _Nooooooo._   No, he just stood there and said:  “Okay.”  It was horrifying!  I wonder if I...”

“Do not meddle, Garrett.”

“But he—”

“Do _not_ meddle, Garrett.”

Garrett grumbled halfheartedly in response.

*             *             *

“Do mer have tales of magic?”

Fenris raised a brow as he turned to face Garrett, seemingly in deep thought despite leisurely reclining as his bait bobbed and readjusting his hat.  “What brought that on?”

“I don’t know.  It’s just...  I don’t know.  We don’t talk about it too much here, but we know it’s real.  People don’t want to talk about the Circle to their kids, but they know about it.  A little bit.  I was just...  Curious?”

Fenris stared at him a minute, then determining he was sincere he sighed and began to elaborate.  “Most of the stories were are told of involving magic include the _[Sea Witch]_.”

“The what?”

“The...”  Fenris halted, considerate.  “Her name would most likely translate to mean something along the lines of “Sea Witch” so that is what I will call her.  My mother told me of her when I was a smolt,”  Fenris tried to ignore the lurching of his heart at the mention of her.  Both due to the pained throb he felt as he realized how long it had been since he had seen her and due to the beats it skipped under the scrutiny of Garrett’s sudden intensity and engagement in regard of Fenris's own story.  This was about the Sea Witch though, not his mother.  He would make that clear in his approach to it.  “She had powers beyond which any mer had ever seen before.”

“Magic?”

“Yes, but beyond that too...  Potent.  Able to do things one only ever dreamed of before.”

“Like...?”

“Most often, these stories involve mer that wish to become human after an encounter with them.  I believe the moral for the smolts is supposed to be to never go near humans and to stay away from the Witch’s den, else they lose everything.  Obviously, I either did not understand it or it did not settle in, else I would not be talking to you right now.”

“Pardon me, but thank the Maker for that.”

“The stories normally end in heartbreak.”  Fenris continued, desperate to ignore the light fluttering in his stomach and heat on his cheeks as Garrett looked on him so admiringly.  “An exchange is always required, and it is a heavy one.  One mer woman gave up her voice, her beautiful voice, and her gorgeous tail in order to be with the man she loved.  Though I use that term loosely, for she had only just met him shortly before when she saved him from drowning.”  Garrett smiled at this and when Fenris made the connection between the mer and her love and the two of them he averted his eyes before he continued.  “Her feet were made to ache so she would be reminded of her home which she had begrudgingly left behind...  She danced for him to make him smile, for without her voice she could not tell him who she was and he, fool that he was, did not realize it on his own.”

Garrett’s smile fell and he suddenly looked pensive.  “...What happened to them?”

“He forgot about her.  Not literally of course, but another woman appeared claiming she was the one who saved him and he thrust her to the side.  He married and the mer woman was left heartbroken.  Her sisters, pitying their sister and missing her with each day, went to the Sea Witch collectively and cut off their silky locks in order to obtain a knife from the Witch.  If the mer woman killed her love in his wedding bed with the knife then she would be freed, she would regain the use of her tail and be legless again.  She would be able to swim amongst her loved ones and would be free to sing and dance and play...  All that she had to do to get it all back was end her unrequited love’s life.

“She couldn’t do it in the end.  Her sisters watched as she ran off the deck of the boat that the man and his bride had been wed on and threw herself into the sea.  Unable to live with herself, she turned to sea foam and was lost forever to both worlds.” 

Garrett looked horrified.  “That’s...  _Awful_.”

Fenris shrugged.  “That is the most extreme instance and the best known story, but there are others too.  A mer man who gave up his tail and his sight in order to be with a woman he had fallen in love with, only to be doomed to wander the shore blindly by himself when he found that she had married and become with child in his absence as he searched for the Witch.  A mer woman who forsook her family, giving up her tail and leaving her young smolt behind, only for the man she had fallen for to reject her.  It is not an uncommon tale.”

“Surely there must be a story with a happy end.  One where the mer and their love get to live out the rest of their days happily with one another.”  Garrett insisted, a hint of desperation Fenris dare not try to understand evident in his tone.

“If it exists, I have yet to hear it.”

They stared at each other for a while then, expressions unreadable, before eventually changing the subject.

*             *             *

“Lyna and Tamlen are having a baby!”  Garrett announced joyously.

“Good for them.  Do they know whether it will be a boy or a girl yet?”

“Not yet, but Tamlen’s spirits are higher than ever.  He’s already set about making this _gorgeous_ cradle for the lucky babe.  Actually, he’s set about making everything a baby could need really.  Lyna says that he’s driving her crazy, but I think that’s just for show because you can tell that she’s just as involved in it as he is.  I’m happy for them.”

“They sound like they will be good and attentive parents.  The child is blessed.”

“It reminds me a lot of my parents actually!”  Garrett laughed.  “I was five when the twins were born, but my mother and father were no less enthusiastic.  Father even risked a little magic to make sure their crib was always warm for them.”

Fenris smiled, imagining what Malcolm must have looked like as he prepared to dote on his children-to-be.  “I can only imagine what it must have been like.”

Garrett hummed in response.  “Father was a bit overzealous when it came to us.  I think a lot of it was because he was Circle born.”

“What do you mean?”

“Father was born in the Circle and kept there once they realized that he had magic.  He never knew his parents, or his real surname for that matter, and if he had had a child while he was there then it would have been spirited away before he could ever meet it.  I think that made him appreciate family a lot more than most people...”

He thought of his own mother, back in the time when he was Leto.  Of her smile and her embrace and her soothing words.  He remembered her hissing at their elders and clutching him to her chest as she refused to relinquish him and assuring him that he was loved.  He thought of her laugh and her large, mossy green eyes and her silky black hair.  He thought of her and his heart panged.

He wondered how she was now.

Did she ever think of him...?

“Mothers and fathers...  They’re truly incredible.”

Garrett nodded, the smile on his face distant but understanding.  “They really, really are.”

*             *             *

He had stayed near Ferelden for far too long. 

He knew it with each passing day that he spent with Garrett in the cove.  He knew it as the one season rolled into another and he had still yet to move on. 

The fact was:  He had been there for far too long, yet he did not desire to leave.

So he ignored it.

Then, one day, the fact became impossible to ignore.

He could feel the tugging on his markings, felt their sting and hiss as his own skin was made to reject them by cruel and foreign magic well beyond his control. 

He was forced to cut himself off in the midst of speaking to Garrett with a pained groan as they pulsed and glowed, pain spreading to what felt like every nerve in his body.

“Fenris?!  What’s the matter?!”

Fenris couldn’t help but claw at his own skin, the pain caused by his talons digging into this flesh paling alongside the lyrium markings’ but providing some sort of distraction regardless.

“...  Not...  Safe...”  He eventually managed, gasping for breath he felt was being stolen from him.  He gestured crudely in the direction he felt the tug coming from.  Garrett followed the gesture and his eyes narrowed at whatever he saw.  He had found it odd when the tugging came from land rather than the sea but sure enough when he managed to turn his own head in that direction he saw strange lights and started to make out several of what sounded like multiple voices. 

If he were honest with himself it was enough to make him want to sob right then and there. 

Garrett seemed to sense his distress and moved over towards him, hands alight with the beginning of some sort of spell.  “With your permission, I’m going to try something, ok?”

Fenris didn’t feel like he was getting enough breath to say anything, much less fight, so he nodded his consent.  Garrett smiled down at him and gathered cool, soothing energy into his palms and started to run them up and down Fenris’s markings, drawing away enough of the pain to make it manageable.

“Any better?”

“Much...”

For a little while, it was enough to almost make Fenris forget about the strange lights and voices.

_Almost_.

Then the voices closed in one them and Garrett tensed as the she-devil herself emerged with a team of slavers in tow, freezing over a portion of the ocean to prevent his escape and cornering them as Fenris curled in on himself and hid his face against Garrett's chest. 

“ _Avanna_ , Fenris.  Danarius has missed you so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think Fenris was truly free (yet) did you? 
> 
> Don't worry, he isn't going down without a fight, and Hawke most certainly isn't about to just let him get dragged off back to Tevinter. :)
> 
> In case you're wondering, the first "story of the Sea Witch" that Fenris tells is more or less the actual story of the Little Mermaid before Disney...Disney-fied it(?). There are several variations to the original story, but it's all pretty horrific. Later versions offer other alternatives to her death, but as far as I am aware she never gets her love except for in _The Little Mermaid_ movie. D': 
> 
> It's quite interesting though, actually! I'd recommend you looking into it if you want to know more. :D
> 
> **Translation Notes:**  
>  _Fasta vass_ \- A swear  
>  _Avanna_ \- "Hello"; used originally in Fenris's official short story by a slaver hunting him down


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always feel like I write novellas for you all in the End Notes, but please do check this week's notes out if you don't mind! Thank you so much! :D

Without any word in manner of warning, Garrett took down two of the three men in an instant.

Fire flew through the air, hands flying up and weaving spells before even Fenris could anticipate it.

The two men who were hit wheezed, gasping for breath as they were made to fly back and hit the ground with a heavy thud, the third ran back to their aid in order to beat the fire off of them.

The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes.  “I told Danarius I would have been better off coming on my own.  It would have been more efficient, not to mention _much_ cheaper, than bringing along these buffoons.”

 _“Hadriana.”_   Fenris growled.

She was older now, much older.  Her cold eyes were accompanied by crow’s feet, her hands were wrinkled and covered in age spots, and her once black hair had turned to gray, but she was still the Hadriana he had known in youth.  Cruel and calculating.

“Oh Fenris, how far must you fallen to have gone from treasured pet of Danarius to kept mongrel of a Ferelden dog lord?”

“You need to leave.”  Garrett said firmly.  Voice unwavering and leaving little room for argument.

She laughed.  “Oh dear, you think you have power here?  You may have caught those idiots off guard, but I’m afraid a blue blooded Magister like myself has the advantage over whatever breed of bumpkin mage you might be.”  She took a step closer, folded her arms over her chest and frowned at them.  “Interesting...  Your kind does not age like the rest of us, does it Fenris?”

Fenris snarled, rage overpowering the pain he felt as she looked upon him distastefully and his markings flared.

“Funny, you we were much more talkative when were young.”

 _“Vishante kaffas!”_  

“Oh I’m so frightened.”  She raised her hand, closing it tightly into a fist and Fenris let out an involuntary scream as he fell, body throbbing all over.  “Oh wait, no I’m not.”

_“Fenris!”_

“Be a good little dog lord, and hand him over.”

“FUCK YOU!”  Garrett barked, summoning up as much mana as he could into his palms and sending her flying backwards into the mostly recovered slavers.  As soon as her body made contact with them he thrust his other hand down and thawed the water near them, grabbing Fenris up and running him into the water.  “Get out of here while you can!”

“Garrett—!!”

“RUN!”  No sooner had Garrett turned did a slaver tackle him to the ground.  _“Shit—!”_

“GARRETT!”  Fenris cried out, watching almost helplessly as the other slavers charged at his companion as Hadriana wiped away the blood from her mouth with a snarl and thrust her staff into the sand as she began what appeared to be a summoning spell.

He started scanning the area, pain be _damned_ , looking for something, anything they could use.

There had to be something that he could do...!

Then, he saw it.

He snatched up an oar from the boat and turned to face the beach, where Garrett had managed to throw off one of his assailants and had thrown a punch at the other as he struggled to gather his mana back into his hands again.

“GARRETT!  COVER YOUR EARS AND CATCH!”

Before their enemies could process what was happening and as soon as he saw Garrett cover his ears and brace for the catch he let out one of his many inhuman screeches.  It was an unholy noise not too much unlike the one he had startled Garrett with when they first met, but much louder. 

The Tevinter slavers and magister alike all stopped dead as the sound cut through their ears and Fenris tossed up the oar.  Garrett rolled off to the side and jumped, snatching it from the air, before turning and slamming it into the ground.  It was almost a mirror of what Hadriana had done, but Fenris knew better.

He had seen those gestures before, back when Felix had been perfecting his Primal spells.

Sure enough, a bolt flew up into the air and several more streams of lighting came raining down from the sky.  They roasted the slavers alive, cooking them in their metal suits as their screams faded into oblivion.  The bolts that struck Hadriana threw her backwards unarmed, her metal staff having flown out of her hand with the force of the lightning coursing throughout it and propelling it out of her hand.

The moment that Hadriana went flying through the air, the pain in Fenris’s markings ceased.

Garrett, for his own part, looked slightly horrified as he turned over the slavers and confirmed what they both had innately known when they hit the ground:  All three were dead. 

Later, when what was to come had passed, Fenris would look back on this moment and realize that this was probably the first and only time that Garrett had taken a life.  A sickeningly realization really, but disturbingly comforting as well if he lingered on the circumstances of their deaths. 

Garrett, Garrett Hawke with his heart of gold, had forsaken any qualms he might have in order to protect him.  It was a realization that would inevitably set his heart aflutter and make him feel warm on the inside, despite all its gruesome context.

In the moment though, he was only concerned with one thing.

“Hadriana, Garrett!  Is she alive?!”

*             *             *

Hadriana groaned as she attempted to roll over, only to find any progress that might have been was halted by a very heavy foreign object.  She struggled to clear her vision and upon further inspection realized that it was Fenris’s tail which was keep her pined in the surf.

She snarled and went to grip her fist, to send Fenris to the ground howling his pain once more, only to find that she could not move her hand or the rest of her limbs for that matter.

“Pesky business, lightning.”  Garrett chided, his distaste for her ringing clear in his voice as he said it.  “Always a risk of damage.”

Before she could retort, sending a biting remark the southern mage’s way, Fenris growled and grasped at her robe, lifting her up to face him.  “Any last words?”

“...”  She tried to chuckle, despite herself, but it turning into a series of coughs halfway.  As soon as she regained her breath, she schooled her features and glared at him.  “Hmm...  “Last words” is it?  How dreadful.  Let me think on it a bit...”

 _“Do not test me, mage.”_   Fenris growled, fist aglow as he thrust it into her chest.  She gasped, chest heaving even as she felt pressure being applied to the organ within.  “I’ll ask you once more...”

_“Futue te ipsim...!”_

“Have it your way then.”

Hadriana paled as she felt the fist clench.  _“WAIT!_  You do not want me dead!”

“There is only one person I want dead more.”

“I...  I’ll tell you anything you need to know, but you must promise me my life.  You must have questions, answers that you wish to have.  I will give them to you, just let me live.”

“How do we even know if we can trust you?”  Garrett cut in, suspicious.

She laughed halfheartedly.  “You can’t.  But I know Fenris, I know he must desire more than what little knowledge he was left with when he ran.  I can tell you about the markings and the experiment.  I can tell you where Danarius is, what he intends to do with you—”

“So quick to turn on the one you claimed to love, are you?”  Fenris spat, disgusted.

“Do not judge me so quickly, pet.  I know Danarius, and I know that he’ll flay you alive before you could manage to kill him, let alone to pursue him.” 

“I’ll ask this one more time.”  Fenris stated forcefully.  _“Do you have any last words?”_

“Heh...  Only death then?  Pity...   ... Know this:  No matter who you may try and be now, you’re nothing.  You’re still just that scared and pathetic boy you were the day we met on the beach, _Leto._ ” 

**_“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”_ **

_“GCKH!!”_   Hadriana’s body fell over, eyes rolling into the back of her head as the woman went limp.

Fenris stared at the heart in his hand, red blurring his vision as he swore and tore at it with both his hands, screaming curse after curse all the while.  Garrett watched in silence, waiting until most of the blood was being swept out to sea along with what little remained of the she-devil’s heart before mustering up the courage to speak.

“Do you...  Want to talk about it?”

Fenris snapped.  _“NO!  I don’t want to talk about it!”_  

“A-Alright.”  Garrett stuttered, eyes widening at the hostility Fenris was showing him.  “I...  Fenris, I just—Are you going to be ok?”  Silence was the only response he received.  Swallowing a lump in his throat, Garrett looked around at the carnage on the beach and settled on grasping Fenris’s shoulder.  “Maybe...  We should go someplace else.”

“Don’t comfort me.”  Fenris shrugged his shoulder, throwing Garrett’s hand off of it, and immediately regretted the decision when the look of utter dejection on the man’s face brought a pang of guilt to the mer’s heart.  “I...  I didn’t...”  He inhaled and exhaled, trying to will away his hate.  “I...  I need to go.”

He threw himself into the water without another word, leaving a trail of corpses and the shadow of a man in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter could unofficially be titled "Esper Has No Clue How to Write Fight Scenes (And She Apologizes)"! XD)
> 
> Things got rather heated very quickly, didn't they? Of course they had to when Hadriana showed up, there was no other way to go about it. :'O
> 
> Also, in case you were wondering, we're going to assume that physics work a bit differently in this AU and that unlike in game where warriors and rogues and get hit by lightning and be fine that metal would in fact conduct electricity and lead to a fatal (or in Hadriana's case) near fatal strike. (Or loophole it and say the Vints got lazy and didn't have their stuff enchanted to protect against lightning, I think that's what I'm going to go with in my head. :'D) 
> 
> This is also known as, "the author is extremely inexperienced with fight scenes and wanted to spare herself any embarrassment she may have felt dragging it out" (and spare readers secondhand embarrassment on that note!). Sorry if it was anti-climatic, but Danarius's eventual scene will have much more happening in it though (or at least I plan it to!), so don't be too disappointed!
> 
>  **Translation Notes:**  
>  _Vishante kaffas_ \- "You shit on my tongue"  
>  _Futue te ipsim_ \- Fuck you
> 
>  **Side note:** I'm so sorry this chapter came so late you guys!! I know it's still technically Sunday (at least where I live it is) but whoa this is late for me! On that note though, I just got (tragically) slammed with several term papers, essays, and major exams to prepare for, so I may have to go on hiatus for a little while... :'(  
>  I think I may be able to get another chapter or two out first, but I really need to prioritize school as the semester ends. Sorry! I'll try to get another chapter out and at least let you all know what's going to happen update-wise, but if I don't (or if it comes out late) just know that my school year concludes mid-May and the normal update schedule should definetly resume by then!!  
> As always, thank you all for reading and being so wonderful! I hope you enjoyed this update! (^o^)/


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have survived my first year as a college student and am happy to say that with my exams and papers completed and turned in I am back! :D 
> 
> The update schedule should resume now, but I thought that for being so wonderfully patient and understanding for me I could upload the next part now. I forgot how much of a cliffhanger the last chapter I posted was, sorry! I hope you enjoy this update! :)

When Fenris surfaced a few hours later, having cleared his head and cooled down a bit, he was surprised for several reasons.

For one thing, Garrett’s boat was still docked in the position which signaled he was still on the beach.  It was a system they had worked out a month or so into their friendship so that Fenris would know when Garrett was present, even if he wasn’t in the water.

Secondly, the bodies were gone from the beach as far as he could tell, the sands clearly free of blood and bodies alike. 

The clarity of which he could perceive their absence with led to the third surprise, which appeared to be Garrett sitting alone on the beach with a small fire illuminating the area where he currently presided.

For a few long moments, Fenris bobbed in the water to the ebb and flow of the waves silently, looking on towards the beach but unwilling to move towards the man on it just yet.  He had reacted irrationally, the adrenaline he had felt in addition to the rage had made him hurt Garrett, that much was clear.  He didn’t really know what to do about it and most certainly had not been anticipating dealing with his behavior quite so soon.

Still, when the man spotted him and visibly waved him over, he swallowed his pride as well as any reservations he might have had and waded his way over, pulling himself along the sand towards the fire until he was almost entirely out of the water and away from the moist sand to sit facing Garrett.

The sat in silence for a while, Garrett watching him cautious, painfully reserved Fenris couldn’t help but note with another twinge of guilt and he averted his gaze.  Eventually, the mer managed to steel himself enough to take a deep breath and turn to address the man.  “I…  Have been thinking about what happened with Hadriana.  I took my anger on you, undeservedly so.  I was...  Not myself.  I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t really understand what was happening or what she was doing to you.”  Garrett admitted, eyeballing his markings blatantly for the first time since they had met, no doubt the grasp Hadriana appeared to have had through them not forgotten.  “When you...  I was concerned.”

“I needed to be alone...”  Fenris explained slowly and cautiously, watching Garrett’s face carefully for any radical change in expression.  When nothing happened, he continued.  “I...”  He sighed and turned to face Garrett.  “You have been very patient with me throughout all of this.  I think...  That you deserve some answers, about who I am and why this,” He gestured vaguely all around the beach, no doubt hinting at the events of the day.  “Happened.”

“Fenris, you don’t have to—”

“I know.”  He started, effectively cutting the man off.  “But I want to.  Just...  Bear with me, alright?  This will be...  Difficult, for me to talk about.”

“In that case, I definitely made the right call grabbing this...”  Garrett smiled forlornly as he held up a bottle, filled with a strange liquid, and crawled closer to Fenris to pass it to him.  “I thought this might be something that you’d rather forget or just not talk about, and I figured wine could help with that much.”

For once, Fenris did not question Garrett on his motive or the nature of the liquid, having decided he more than owed the man his trust as well as some answers and turned the bottle up, getting a good mouthful before pulling it back and swallowing.  He grinned as the taste hit his palette and watched as Garrett took the bottle back and took a drink himself.  “Thank you Garrett.”  The man nodded in response and passed the bottle back to him, which Fenris took as his cue to begin.  “I...  Told you that I was born off the coast of Minrathous, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“I was born to a clan in the reefs that lay beyond the cove there, my and my sister, Varania.  My mother loved us both very much, but it wasn’t enough for the rest of my clan.”

“What do you mean?”

“I...  This...  Might sound off but...  My people believe that the color of a mer’s tail is indicative of their fate.  When my first scale shed, I was found to have a black tail, and therefore cursed from the start.”  _‘The first misfortune of many.’_   His mind so helpfully replied as he took another swig from the wine bottle.

“Black tails are...  Bad then?”

“They are believed to bring nothing but suffering and misfortune to themselves and those that they come into contact with, a sentiment that grows more and more true to me as I grow older.”  He shook his head, dismissing that train of thought.  “That is beside the point though.  The point is, that because of my tail I was ostracized and...”

For the next couple of hours, Fenris poured over his life story, baring his heart to Garrett for all that he was worth.  He talked about his mother and his sister and his first friends, the Tevinter mages and the Qunari, and of learning to talk and play.  He talked about his first experience with mortality and how he had had to sit and watch his friends grow old and gray and eventually die while he alone lived on. 

He talked about Leto, the person he had once been before he was contaminated by hatred and the cruelty of those he had thought he could trust.  He told him about Danarius and Hadriana and Jowan and what they had done to him, prompting Garrett to look at his markings with newfound remorse, and told him about how he had escaped. 

He even told him about the long years which spanned between each encounter with humans, each drink from the bottle leaving him feeling more brazen.  He talked about Malcolm and Leandra and—

“And then, of course, now there’s you.  You...  Confuse me.  I find myself thinking about you, more and more often these days, and I cannot decide what to do about it.”

“I’d like to think I’m more interesting than kelp and fish and whatever it is that you mer people preoccupy your thoughts with usually.”  Garrett chuckled, though there was a flare of red on his cheeks at Fenris’s comment.  Whether it was the wine or something else remained to be determined. 

Fenris frowned.  “I hate fish.”  He confessed, suddenly.  Garrett guffawed.

“A mer who hates fish?  Maker forbid!”

“You try living off of fish and only fish for most of your life and we’ll see how well you like it.”

“Fair enough.  If I had to exist purely on fish for the first few decades of my life—”

“Centuries.”

“Wait, what?”

Fenris squinted at the bottle, upturning it for the last few drops of liquid and swallowing before he continued.  “I’m well into my second century by now, I’m sure.”

“Wait, centu—Fenris, are you really that old?”  The man couldn’t help but ask, disturbed.  “Two hundred years?”

“Close your mouth, Garrett, or flies with get into it.”

“Do you even know what flies are?”

“No, but I have heard of them.”

“Seriously though, Fen, centuries?”

Fenris shrugged noncommittally, frowning as he turned up the bottle again and found that he and Garrett appeared to have truly drained it.  “A lot of time passed between my first friends’ lifetime and my next encounter with humans.  I can only assume from what Jowan said that it was as long.”

“...  You look good for someone over two hundred?”  Garrett eventually managed, mind still reeling over the revelation. 

Fenris chuckled.  “Thank you, Garrett.”

“So...  You’ll always outlive humans then?  How long do mer live?”

“The eldest I knew of who lived in my clan was likely upwards to a thousand or so years old.”  Fenris settled, placing the bottle between them on the ground near the steadily dying fire.  "I’m not sure exactly how old we live to be on average...  There aren’t many of us to begin with, most of us die young traveling from place to place, and those that live to be old tend to go off at the end of their lives and never return.”

“That’s...  Awfully depressing.”

“Is it?  I try not to think about it too much.  I mean in the end it does not matter that much.  I have long accepted it.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“What happens after.”  Fenris supplied helpfully.  “After Danarius dies and stops pursuing me...  After this,”  He gestured between him and Garrett and smiled meekly.  “It will be the same as before.  I will be alone.”

Garrett looked horrified.  “ _No_.”  He insisted.

“It’s true.”  He replied, honestly and resignedly.  “There is no point in denying it.  After you die, as you inevitably will, and after Danarius dies and I am left to my own devices, who will I speak with?  I can’t return to my family, I was an inconvenience at best and I need not burden my mother in her dying days with a son in such a state as I am now.  No mer in their right mind will speak with a black tail and my stock hold of human friends are being vastly depleted.”

Garrett opened his mouth as though to retort, before shutting it and biting his lip, frowning.  Eventually, he leaned back to settle properly in the sand and averted his gaze from Fenris, looking to the side and playing absentmindedly with the sand underneath his palm.  “...  It isn’t fair.” 

“It isn’t.”  Fenris nodded in agreement, smile falling.  “There is no justice in it, but I have resigned myself to the reality of it.  It is my fate, and there is nothing to be done for it.  Unless of course, Danarius succeeds in his endeavors a drags me back to Tevinter.”

_“He will not.”_   Garrett growled suddenly, startling Fenris as much as comforting him when the words set in.  “He will not take you.  I would sooner _die_ than—”  Garrett’s face flushed, the redness this time not easily attributed to the wine, and he coughed, making a meager attempt to hide his face in his elbow as he did.  “I—I mean _—I—!”_

A smile fought its way to Fenris’s face and the fire’s dimming light danced pleasantly in the mer’s eyes as he leaned closer to Garrett.  “I appreciate it.”

“It’s—I mean—!...  You’re welcome.”

Fenris chuckled, the sound making Garrett’s stomach flip and his heart feel delightfully light in its wake.

“Thank you, Garrett.”

They didn’t do much talking after that.  Instead they sat in silence, listening to the waves and watching the fire die out.  At some point, Garrett shifted closer and took the mer’s hand in his, stroking the wet and slick skin of the mer’s palm soothingly as he did he best to keep his grip on it.

Fenris smiled forlornly, allowing his head to fall on the man’s shoulder as the watched the tide go out, moon high and in the sky and now the only remaining light they had, as he silently mourned a new fact he tucked away for himself. 

No matter how he shifted and repositioned his own hand, no matter how Garrett shifted and repositioned his own hand, their hands could never truly intertwine.  The webbed fingers on Fenris’s hands made the effort moot at best and left Garrett in the awkward position of laying his hand over the mer’s in as close as they could get to maintaining any semblance of handholding.

He felt disappointment and sadness in the face of his realization, and though the man never said so himself, he knew Garrett had to have noticed as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... We have Fenris and Garrett learning to trust one another more (or let's be honest: Fenris learning to trust more) but it's definitely forcing them to face certain facts about the distance between them anatomically and what that bodes for them. Perhaps a bit of an angsty way to throw us all back into the story, but I tried to make it a bit fluffy too! 
> 
> And yes, in case you were wondering, it was Agreggio Pavali that was being drank on the beach. Who am I to tamper with such a classic FenHawke moment after all? Pah! ;D
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed this installment of _Stranger Tides_ and hope to see all your beautiful little faces (*coughs*orinthiscaseicons*coughsagain*) this Sunday when I post the next update. And again, thank you all for being for patient and understanding, I'm happy to be back!


	21. Chapter 21

“What’s this?”  Garrett gasped incredulously upon finding Bethany smiling down on a bouquet of flowers left on their farmhouse’s doorstep.  “Does my sister, my _baby_ sister, have a suitor?  When did this happen?!” 

“Well brother, perhaps if you came around the house more often you would have been made privy to it.”  Bethany suggested slyly, uncharacteristically smug.  Her expression softened upon looking down at the flowers though.  “They’re lovely, aren’t they?  He knows just the kind that I like.”

“Wait, do you know who this mysterious suitor is?”  Garrett asked, crooking his head to the side and raising a brow. 

Bethany giggled.  “He’s hardly mysterious if _I_ know who he is, isn’t he?”

“Who is it?”

“I’m not telling you.”  She sang, tongue-in-cheek. 

“Well, that’s just rude.  Don’t you think that as your older brother I have a right to know who is trying to win your heart?”

“So you can what?  Go rough him up a bit if you need to?”  She shook her head.  “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“I, for one, think that they’re a lovely match, if that soothes you at all.” 

“Mother?!  You know who it is?!”

“Of course I do.”  Leandra seemed almost offended.  “I wouldn’t be your mother if I didn’t know such things.  I caught him leaving the flowers the second time they appeared, and I must say that I definitely approve.”

“Who is he?!”

“Your sister will tell you when she’s ready.”  Leandra said definitively, effectively ending the discussion.  She smiled at her daughter.  “Let’s go put those in a vase, shall we?” 

Bethany’s only response was to blush and beam back.  “Sounds good to me.”

“Hold on a second!”  Garrett protested even as the women started to walk away from him.  “Who’s—”

“Don’t feel left out, brother.  His identity is apparently limited to only the women of the house.  Even I haven’t been told yet.”  Carver groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“No idea who it is?”  Garrett frowned as Carver pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.  “I thought for sure that you would have some idea…”

“So sorry to disappoint, but no.  I have no idea.”  Carver looked to the side, making sure their mother and sister were out of earshot before continuing.  “I worry about it though.  What if it becomes serious and he isn’t okay with…”  Carver waved his hand this way and that, wiggling his fingers as he did the crudest imitation of an incantation that Garrett had ever seen.  “You know.”

“If Mother is alright with whoever it is, then I don’t think that we have to worry so much about that.  She’d raise a fuss if she was concerned about it, I’m sure.  Speaking of that though,”  Garrett’s face split into a teasing grin as he turned to properly face Carver.  “How goes it with the courting of a certain bubbly ex-Dalish mage?”

“Shut up.”  Carver huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as red overtook his face.

Garrett just laughed in response.

*             *             *

“Do _not_ meddle, Garrett.”  Fenris instructed, exasperated. 

“Is it meddling if it works though?”  Garrett challenged, bemused.  “The last time I meddled, I helped a poor widowed, awkward, redhead get together with her painfully oblivious future husband.”

“If you are talking about Aveline, I can assure you that she can take care of herself.  I’ve not even met the woman but she sounds more than capable from everything you’ve told me.”

“Oh yes, more than capable in every respect _except_ courtship.  You weren’t there to witness that horror.”  Garrett shuddered.  “Maker, I’m getting secondhand embarrassment just thinking about it...”

Fenris chuckled.  “I will concede victory to you if it was really so horrific, but I must implore you not to meddle in your siblings’ love lives.”

“What if I just—”

_“Garrett.”_   Fenris growled out a low warning. 

Garrett sighed before flopping dramatically in his boat, reclining to face the sky.  “Fine, I won’t meddle.” 

Fenris grinned.  “Good.”

“It’s just, you know, they’re my little brother and my little sister.  I can’t help but worry.”

“I would be lying if I said I could relate,”  Fenris admitted, his own relationship with his sister so strained.  “But I do believe that I understand where you’re coming from.  Still, I think it’s better for them to work it out among themselves.  It’s more natural that way and it will happen on their own time, when they are ready for it.”

“What if they wait too long?  What happens then?”

Something in Garrett’s tone had shifted and Fenris no longer felt that they were solely speaking of the man’s siblings. 

Inside of Fenris something twisted and knotted up at the idea of Garrett perhaps having someone he was pining for on the mainland, confusing him, but he shoved the thought aside into a crevice in his mind as he tried to will the feeling away.  It was not his business either way, he told himself, but that felt like a lie in and of itself as well.

“Well?”  Garrett implored the mer, stealing him away from his thoughts. 

Fenris swam up to the side of the boat and pulled himself up, resting his arms on the side and his head atop them as he frowned, considering it.  “Then they waited too long, it would be on them.” 

“...  Shouldn’t I do something then?”

Meeting the man’s gaze, Fenris shrugged his shoulders before turning his gaze to the horizon.  “I do not think it wise to linger on the “maybes” in life.”

*             *             *

“The Denerim Marketplace?”  Fenris repeated, confused. 

Garrett groaned.  “Unfortunately, yes.  Even though I’ve essentially become more a fisherman than a farmer at this point, Carver needs somebody to help him bring the produce and animals to sell.  It’s a big market, a once a year kind of deal, but it needs to be done.  I’ll be gone for about a month.”

“...  A month.”  Fenris’s gut flipped in an unpleasant way at that fact.

Garrett frowned, chewing his lip as he considered the mer before him.  “I don’t want to go.”

_‘Then don’t.’_   Fenris almost said, but he kept his mouth shut in the end.  It wasn’t his place to request such a thing, he decided, and he was still struggling to determine why it bothered him so much in the first place. 

“...  I will be back.”  Garrett promised, almost solemnly.  “But umm...  Until I do...”

Fenris crooked his head to the side inquisitively, waiting patiently for Garrett to say what he needed to until he could take it no longer.  “Garrett.  Spit it out.”

“Would you mind if my mother visited with you while I was gone?”  He blurted out.

Fenris blinked.  Garrett blinked. 

“… What?”

“I mean—!  It’s just—!”  Garrett curled in on himself, hiding his mouth behind his knees as he averted his gaze from Fenris and muttered.  “I’d feel better if someone was visiting you while I was gone…  And I figured—Well, Mother already knows about you and—”

“Garrett…”

“It’s fine.  I mean, it’s not but it is and—”

“I would be happy to have her visit me.”  Fenris assured the man, surprising himself at the sincerity behind his words and apparently surprising Garrett as well if his shocked expression was to be believed.  

Well, Fenris thought, a Hawke was preferable to no Hawke, even if it wasn't  _his_ Hawke.

He froze at that thought, marveling at the fact that he considered Garrett to be his, even if it was just amongst the member of the Hawke family, and started trying to rationalize what exactly that entailed for him.  

He wasn't allowed to linger on the matter for long, however, as Garrett began to prattle on and on to ask him this and that about what he would like from Denerim and when would be the best times for Leandra to visit him at the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has broken 100 pages in Microsoft Word, oh my god.
> 
> It's been awhile since I've written anything so lengthy and I must say I'm quite happy that I've gotten to stick with this story so long, not to mention acquire such wonderful readers along the way! When I first started this, I had no idea that it would get as much attention as it has so I want to thank you all again! Thank you!! :D (I'm saying "thank you" too much aren't I? I mean it though!) 
> 
> From this point on, I anticipate the pace picking up a bit. I know exactly how this will end, I just don't know how long it'll take to get there. It's feeling like the end if coming sooner than I anticipated though (meaning you probably won't be reading through another 20+ chapters to reach the end, but then again, who knows anymore?). 
> 
> (I may do some drabbles post-ending when we get there, depending on how this all plays out. I have a lot more fluffy Mer!AU FenHawke stuff in mind than I would have ever anticipated...)
> 
> I feel like Bethany's suitor is either so obvious it's practically screaming at you or so not as expected as other people that it may come as a surprise. Or it could be totally expected and normal, who I am to know? XD 
> 
> Poor Carver is still struggling make his feelings known to Merrill, and it seems like his big brother is starting to struggle with his own feelings too. (Those poor Hawkeward babies.) 
> 
> Shorter chapter, I know, sorry! The next one should be longer, I promise! As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	22. Chapter 22

The first day that Leandra Hawke visited Fenris was as a pleasant as it was awkward. 

Pleasant because she was as kind as Fenris remembered Malcolm describing her. 

She was soft spoken and patient and her visitation allowed him to stop his seemingly never ending game of paddleball so that he did not grow bored of it too quickly.  (He needed it to amuse him at least as long as it took for Garrett to return.)

Awkward because Fenris could hardly manage small talk the entirety of her first visit. 

It wasn’t the same as talking to Garrett, for obvious and not-so-obvious reasons.  Leandra was nice, but she just...  Wasn’t Garrett. 

Granted, they shared a few ticks that eased some of the tension that had overtaken his body.  Her exasperated expressions and quirked brow as she talked about Garrett’s latest exploits on the farm (Why oh why he had decided letting the rooster in the house was a good idea, Fenris would never understand) were much more like Garrett’s than Malcolm’s own expressions had ever been.

The second visit they settled into a more comfortable flow and it was not as hard for him to speak to her, but it did not mean he missed Garrett any less.

“Garrett made me promise that I would bring you these,” Leandra murmured, equal parts exasperation and amusement, as she reached into the burlap sack she had carried to the beach which Fenris had been eyeing curiously.  “I swear, when I forgot this bag yesterday I could feel his disapproval, even without him being here.”  She chuckled as she latched onto one of the items in the bag and tossed it to him.

Fenris caught it instinctively, turning over his hand to reveal a bright, shiny, red apple.

He beamed, all but cradling the fruit in his palms as he considered it.  Leandra couldn’t fight the smile fighting its way onto her face as she regarded him.  “He’s quite fond of you, do you know that?”

Fenris blinked, snapped out of whatever stupor he had been in, and looked up at her.  “What do you mean?”

“Garrett has always been a bit shy, especially when he was a child.  He never had many friends growing up.  He tried not to let us notice, but I was his mother, so of course I caught on.”  Fenris frowned, the image of a lonely and painfully shy younger Garrett flashing in his mind’s eye.  He didn’t like it. 

“He doesn’t seem shy now.”  He pointed out.  Leandra smiled and Fenris couldn’t decide whether it was more sad or simply reminiscent. 

“He learned to adapt.  He mimicked his father as well as he could and started to make friends, but I can still see that little boy he once was in his face from time to time.  I’m glad that he has you now.”  She confessed, perking up a bit as Fenris finally took a bite of the apple in his hand.  “He has made friends, but I had not seen him so happy until he met you.” 

Blushing and desperate to turn the tide of the conversation, Fenris swallowed his bite of apple and met Leandra’s gaze.  “What was Garrett like as a child?”

She giggled a little bit, intriguing the mer as he pulled up on the small dock where she sat, her legs swinging over the water, as he continued to munch silently on his apple.  “He was very different.  A painfully bashful and shy little boy was what he was.  One time, our neighbor came over for dinner when he was about…  Oh, I don’t know.  He was taller than my knee but probably still shorter than hips at the time…  Anyways, we had a neighbor come over for dinner with his daughter, Peaches, who was roughly Garrett’s age.  She tried to play with him, to get him to run around in the yard with her or play pretend as her mother and I prepared dinner, but my little boy just became incredibly flustered.  He didn’t know what to do!  He wound up hiding his face in my skirts and clinging to my leg for the rest of the evening.”

“He...  He just hid?”

“You have to understand, Garrett came into his magic incredibly young.”  Leandra began, trying to help the mer make sense of her son’s strange behavior.  “By the time he was five he had almost burnt the barn down and had a hard time controlling much of his own power.  Most mages come into their magic around the time they hit puberty, around twelve or so years old, at an age where they can filter enough of their emotions to control it at least a little bit, but Garrett found his when he still had all of his baby teeth in his head. 

“If he got too excited, little sparks would start dancing through the air around him.  If he got too upset, the room would either be covered in ice or almost light aflame.  He knew if he got too worked up something would happen, so he did his best to avoid getting emotional around those outside of our family.”

“...”  Fenris fiddled his lower lip between his teeth as he thought about what that fact likely entailed about Garrett Hawke, how lonely it must have been at times. 

“With time, of course, it got better.” Leandra assured him, almost certainly seeing the concern written across the mer’s face.  “We were careful who we exposed him to as a child in hopes that he could still have a normal childhood, one with friends and fun and people who cared about him, but he was still hesitant.  Peaches’s older brother had been lost to the Circle before she was born, her parents were there when Garrett almost blew up the barn, he knew he was safe with them and we knew that he was in no danger of being turned in by them.  They missed their boy as much as we loved ours.

“But Garrett couldn’t differentiate between when it was safe to be himself around other people, so he tried to hole himself up.  Eventually, a few months before the twins were born, Malcolm took him aside and had a talk with him.  They went out to the barn for a few hours and when they returned Garrett was very different.  More guarded around strangers but much more talkative and open to meeting people at the same time, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.”

“Hmmm...”  She crossed her arms, frowning slightly.  “They never really told me what happened out there, you know.  Either of them.  Malcolm just said that he had told him that it was time for him to stop being afraid of what might happen and to focus on what he could control.  His magic, his emotions, all of that.  Never went into much detail, but whatever he said must have worked.  Not more than a month later did Garrett bring his first friend home to us on his own, a little girl named Aveline.”

Fenris’s eyes lit up in recognition.  “They’re still friends now.”

“Yes, they are.  I didn’t know if you would know about her.” 

“Garrett tells me stories about his friends often.  Lately, I hear the most about Isabela, Aveline, Anders, and a dwarf named...  Varric?”

“Varric.  Yes.  He came here a few years ago.  His older brother was looking for passages into the Deep Roads trying to find an old Thaig or something of the sort, but Varric found inspiration here, in Lothering of all places, and started to probe everyone for information.”

“He writes, yes?”

“Yes. I haven’t gotten to read any of his work yet, but my children seem impressed with the content.  He’s still working on the story Lothering inspired and he writes to Garrett regularly.” 

“Any idea what the story is about?”

“I have no idea, to be totally honest.  But if you’re curious, you could ask Garrett when he gets back, I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you all about it.  Apparently, there’s a character based off of him in it.”

“Intriguing.”

*             *             *

“I’m glad to see that you actually liked it.”

“Excuse me?”

“The necklace.” 

Fenris’s hands started working their way up his chest towards the little jade droplet at his clavicle, grasping onto it before he could even process what he was doing.  “Oh.”

“I was actually really worried that you wouldn’t like it.  Malcolm laughed at me when we got into Gwaren.  I had started to dig around in my bags a little more and was sure I could have given you something better.”

In all honesty, until she had said something about it, Fenris had all but forgotten that the little droplet existed at all.  It had become an extension of his body of sorts, something not to be thought of but rather just _was_.  Like the back of a hand or the tips of an ear, it was something he knew existed but did not acknowledge often in his day-to-day life. 

“I haven’t taken it off since you gave it to me.”  Fenris informed her and his chest swelled with warmth when she smiled at him with the same kind of smile Garrett often gave him, delighted at the fact. 

*             *             *

“What do you normally eat, Fenris?”

“Excuse me?”

“What do you normally eat?”

The question came from out of the blue and he didn’t really understand the relevance, but he answered nonetheless.  “Fish.  Mostly fish.”

“Garrett says you hate fish.”

Fenris blinked, surprised that Garrett had found that information noteworthy enough to be shared with Leandra.  “I do.  I have eaten far more than my fair share of fish in my life.”

She quirked a brow and crossed her arms, an impish gleam in them as she continued.  “Do you hate apples too then?  As many as my son seems to bring you, you must be growing tired of them.”

“I love apples.”  He stated, his face the epitome of seriousness.  The deadpanned tone he said it in made it almost comical.  “I will never get tired of apples.  They are the sole exception to the rule.”

“But not fish.”

“Not fish.”

“But you still eat them.”

“Well, there’s not much else to choose.  So...  Yes.”

“Hmmm...  Well, that explains it.”

“...  Pardon?”

“I’ll write Garrett and get him to back some cheese and meats for us.”

“...”  Fenris stared, at a loss.  “I... don’t understand.”  He eventually admitted.

“You’re all skin and bones!”  She huffed, the maternal side of her leaking out.  “It’s no good.  You need to eat more, but until you can manage that a good meal should help you put some weight on.” 

“...  I—”

“When Garrett gets back, I’ll make a nice, hearty stew.  Or... Maybe a chowder?  A chowder is probably better, now that I think of it.  It’ll help you grow big and strong.”

_‘…“Grow big and strong”...?’_

“...  Leandra, you do realize that I’m much older than you, right?”

“That doesn’t matter.”  She stated simply, waving him off.  “The fact remains that you are skin and bones, serrah, and I am a mother.  And as a mother, I have a right to worry over and force food into the hands of anyone without children.  So, I am going to write my son, gather the proper ingredients, and we will put some meat on your bones.  Understood?”

“I—……  Yes ma’am.”

*             *             *

“I wrote to Garrett, he’s bringing us everything I’ll need to make a good pot of chowder, but he seemed far less concerned with the ingredients than he did about you.”  She informed him matter-a-factly before looking down at the letter in her hands. 

Fenris blinked, confused.  “What do you mean?”

 “  _“How is Fenris doing?”  “Did you bring Fenris his apples?  He loves those apples, please tell me you did.”  “How’s Fenris’s paddleball holding up?  I know he’s being careful with the ones he has, but there are some really nice Orlesian ones being sold here that I think he’d like…”  “You brought him those apples right?”  “Please remind Fenris not to fight any sharks while I’m gone.  Tell him I will kill him (with kindness) if he fights another one, I swear.”_

“  _“Has he given you any hints about what he’d like from Denerim?  I couldn’t get a word out of him before I left and now I’m panicking at my inexistent ability to pick out gifts for him.  Please send help.”  “I know I sound insane for asking over and over again, but please please please tell me you brought him those apples.  He loves them.  I love that he loves them.  Tell me you brought him some.”_ And that’s only half of it.”  She concluded, leaving Fenris awestruck and more than a little flustered.  “He also asked repeatedly how we were getting along, and if you seemed to be enjoying my company.  If _you_ seemed to be enjoying my company.  Never the other way around.” 

“I...  Apologize?”

“Don’t you worry about that,”  She assured him, a slight twitch of her mouth betraying her own amusement at the situation as she looked back from Fenris to the letter in her hands.  “It’s not a bad thing, and he did eventually ask about other people and other things, but I did find it both amusing and offensive that he’s so worried about you and I interacting…”  Leandra scoffed. 

“I’m sure he meant no offense.”

“It was a constant in his letter, but honestly...  You don’t have to stand up for him you know.” 

Fenris smiled despite himself.  “Garrett’s a good man, I’m sure he meant well.  He just gets a bit carried away at times...”

“Well,”  A knowing smile split her face as she started folding up the letter.  “Perhaps my son’s fondness for you isn’t as one sided as he thinks.”  She said it mostly to herself, but it was clearly audible to Fenris, whose eyes widened and cheeks dusted red before he averted his gaze.

She wasn’t wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the time Garrett Hawke returns, I promise you that Leandra will have probably told just about every embarrassing story about her son that she can recall to Fenris. I guarantee it. He'll never live it down. (Or rather, he will but he's going to be mortified.)
> 
> So, yeah! Fenris got a little peak into Hawke's past and Leandra is insistent on trying to fatten him up a bit, much to his dismay. I didn't really know how I wanted to write this chapter, and I'm honestly not super satisfied with it, but I think that's more because I don't really feel like I know how to write Leandra very well right now. Not when she talks to Fenris in this story, at least. Hopefully it's passable though, because for now I think that's the best I'll be able to manage. (^o^; 
> 
> I loved writing the little bit about Hawke only really being concerned with Fenris in his letters though! That man is a wreck right now in Denerim, I can pretty much guarantee that. Carver's having to more than just pick up a bit of the slack with his big brother being reminded of Fenris by every bit and bobble lying about like the (unsuspecting) lovestruck fool that he is. He's also very unaware that a lot of what he's written to his mother is being read verbatim to Fenris and would be mortified if he knew. XD


End file.
